


Whispers on the Wind

by shinigami714



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Absent Mindedness, Angst, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Headaches, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language, Romance, cottage life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:31:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2400206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami714/pseuds/shinigami714
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean manages to get a couple weeks off from acting, he makes a spur of the moment decision to visit a close friend.  It turns out to be the most important decision of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story will have happy and sad moments, and I encourage everyone to read it out to the end and not get afraid of the tags as I add them. Of course, if it's really not your thing, then don't dive in.

The walk might not have been so bad if not for the uphill slant. But Dean was nearly at his limit. He paused to wipe away the beads of sweat forming on his brow and dropped his heavy duffle bag to the ground beside him with a long sigh. It was a stupid idea to walk from his bus stop, especially after such a long flight, but Dean had been doing a lot of hiking lately and he figured he was fit enough to at least get around the streets of London.

Boy was he wrong.

It seemed like every road was slanted, and somehow he always ended up walking uphill. Not even noon and he was already completely knackered. Dean took a long sip from the bottle of water he’d been fortunate enough to purchase at a corner store a couple hours back, and squeezed the plastic tightly in his fist when the last drop touched his tongue. He screwed the cap back on it and shoved the empty bottle in his bag, then pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and squinted his eyes as he took in the scrawled address written across it. He’d been in a rush when he wrote it, packing in a hurry as he scrambled to catch his flight on time, and his writing had smudged quite a bit from the friction inside his pocket. It was a spur of the moment decision, to hop on a plane to London with the bright idea to visit his Irish friend. He hadn’t seen Aidan for nearly a year, with scheduling conflicts, and various acting opportunities, and to be honest, he missed the other man’s presence at his side. He’d taken their time spent together while filming for granted, and hadn’t realised how difficult it would be to actually spend time with one another after they went back to their lives on separate continents.

The two men emailed each other regularly, though not so much in the past few weeks or so as usual. So when Dean found out he could swing two weeks off in a row, he made the sudden decision to visit Aidan. It was going to be a surprise, when he showed up on his door mat, if he ever managed to find it on the never-ending street from the depths of hell. Dean was pretty sure he was on the right road, but that didn’t mean much when he could barely make out the number of the flat he was meant to find on his scrap of paper. Dean pushed his hair back from his brow, the blond locks beginning to curl in the heat. He glanced at the nearly endless row of apartments running up the length of the street, all of them identical to the picture Aidan emailed him several months ago when he’d first bought the place. It was impossible to tell which was his. Each house was red bricked with white trim, and they all had the same ornate detailing that looked like it was from another era altogether. Dean was banking on some sort of visible sign, something that screamed _Aidan_. But so far, every single building looked exactly the same as the one beside it.

He picked up his bag and walked a bit further down the street, stopping at a number that might have been the one he was looking for. But when he knocked, a rather burly looking man that must have been twice his size opened the door, and he only frowned in annoyance when Dean asked if he knew which flat might be Aidan’s. It took him the better part of an hour to get through several more of the homes, with little success. And he held up his scrap of paper with frustration in front of the next shiny bronze house number. The scrawl could have been a fourty-eight. Maybe. If he blurred his vision and tilted his head slightly to the right. Dean groaned and knocked on the door anyway, preparing for another encounter with an angry neighbour, but no one answered. He knocked a couple more times before giving up and sitting down on the steps out front with an exasperated sigh.

Dean toyed with his cell in his pocket, wondering if he should just give up and toss his friend an email telling him he was lost. But he really didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Not to mention he didn’t have international service, it would have cost him a fortune just to connect to a data plan.  If only he had possessed the foresight to use the free wi-fi in the airport. Dean was just getting ready to stand up and keep walking when the front door of the flat next door opened up with a creak. A gangly fellow in a worn grey shirt and loose sweats peered over at him before eyeing the well stuffed bag by his feet.

“Ya lookin’ for Aidan?” He rumbled, his voice gruff and scratchy as though he’d just woken up for the day, which he may very well have, judging by his scraggly appearance. Dean perked up at his words and stood quickly, pulling his bag back over his shoulder.

“Yeah! Know when he’ll be back?” Dean asked, unable to keep the enthusiasm from his voice. He couldn’t believe he actually managed to find the right flat! The guy scratched his head and leant against his doorframe with a frown.

“Sorry, but he’s gone,” he said, covering up a yawn. Dean raised an eyebrow, and he glanced towards the flat he stood in front of warily. For some reason the thought that Aidan might be out for the day hadn’t even occurred to him.

“Gone? For how long?” Dean asked curiously, wondering if he should just park his body and wait or if he needed to book a room at an inn for the rest of the day. He nearly groaned as he contemplated walking back the way he came. He figured at the very least he could try again tomorrow. He was not at all prepared for the answer he received.

“Indefinite,” the man drawled, and Dean’s face fell in surprise. His grip tightened on his duffle and he felt his heart constrict a bit in his chest. Aidan hadn’t mentioned anything about moving. Sure, it had been a few weeks since they last spoke, but that still seemed pretty sudden. He fiddled with the paper in his hands and worriedly looked at the door to the flat. It didn’t seem vacant, and there wasn’t a real estate sign in sight. Surely he couldn’t have sold the place so quickly. And Dean was pretty sure Aidan wasn’t filming anything at the moment that would have pulled him away from home.

“What’d you need with ‘im?” The guy spoke up as he studied the way Dean lingered awkwardly on the step with suspicious eyes.  

“I’m a friend. Don’t get a lot of chances to see each other, and I had some time off. Thought I might drop in for a surprise visit. Guess I should have called first,” Dean muttered with a snort.

“Know where he is?” Dean asked hopefully, and he moved closer to lean over the railing on the porch. The guy seemed hesitant to give him any information but eventually he shrugged and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Said he’s renting a place, on Loch Awe,” he spoke casually, and Dean eyed him oddly.

“Loch Awe?” He asked, honestly having no idea where that was. He hoped it was close by.

“Cottage country, in the Scottish Highlands,” was the answer, and Dean’s eyes widened dramatically.

“Seriously? Shit,” he muttered under his breath, standing up straight and pushing away from the railing.

“You wouldn’t happen to have an address for this place he’s at would you?” Dean inquired, trying not to come off as desperate, and the guy grimaced slightly and let out an exasperated noise.

“I’m not supposed to give it out, think he wanted some time to himself, ya know?” he admitted with yet another shrug, and Dean frowned and dragged a hand back through his hair in exasperation.

“Damn,” Dean whispered, scuffing his shoes against the cement beneath his feet as he idly wondered what to do. He really didn’t want to turn around and go home after coming so far. But he also didn’t much feel like hanging around London when his prime reason for visiting was no longer in the city. He could spend a couple days taking in the sights and maybe doing a bit of photography, but it really wasn’t what he had intended when he got on the plane in Auckland. He contemplated begging the guy for a bit but decided against it. If Aidan wanted time away, it was probably best he didn’t interfere.

“You ain’t from around here?” The guy asked as he studied Dean thoroughly and the blond might have squirmed under his gaze if he wasn’t already used to that sort of scrutiny from others. Instead Dean offered him a relaxed and friendly smile, trying to hide how let down he felt beneath the cheerful exterior.

“Nah, New Zealand,” Dean admitted. The guy seemed more awake now and he looked almost regretful as he took in the Kiwi’s ragged appearance.

“That’s a bit of a trip. What’d you say your name was?” the man asked curiously.

“I didn’t, it’s Dean. Dean O’Gorman. Hey, if he comes back, would you mind telling him I stopped by?” Dean requested and he fished around in his bag for a box, finally pulling it from beneath a rolled up pair of pants.

“Oh and maybe, hold on to this for him, if you could,” Dean pleaded, handing over the poorly wrapped box. He’d stuffed it full of the snacks and candies that Aidan fawned over during filming, some of which the brunet had even mentioned having cravings for in his emails.

“Sure,” the guy said, intrigued by the gift, and Dean hoped he didn’t end up eating everything inside it himself.

“Thanks a bunch, see ya around,” Dean offered, and he readjusted his bag and tossed a wave over his shoulder as he walked down the steps, feeling much more downcast than he had only moments before. Dean began his trek back down the street, thankful that at the very least, it was not uphill for once. He felt exhausted and emotionally drained, and all of the excitement at the prospect of seeing Aidan had transformed into a big pit of disappointment that settled uncomfortably in his gut. For some reason it felt as though he might never see his Irish friend again, though the thought was ridiculous, and Dean tried to convince himself it was only a matter of time before they were able to meet somewhere someday, even with their conflicting schedules. Perhaps he would plan his next trip a little more thoroughly. Dean was deep in thought, his mind preoccupied with what he was going to do for the next two weeks when a voice cut through, catching his attention.

“Hey! Dean!” Aidan’s neighbour shouted after him, and Dean turned around to spot him jogging lightly towards him. The guy seemed a lot more awake than before, and he held out Aidan’s gift as he approached.

“How ‘bout you give it to him yourself,” the guy suggested and Dean scrunched up his brow in irritation, until he noticed the piece of paper taped to the top with the address of Aidan’s cottage scrawled hastily in red pen. Dean grinned from ear to ear as he took the parcel back, and he patted the scrawny man’s shoulder gratefully.

“Thanks man!” Dean delighted, and the guy rubbed the back of his head and tossed him a slanted smile, his teeth were in bad shape, much like his clothes, but it turned out the guy wasn’t so bad after all. Dean paused for a moment and glanced down the street with a glower, making yet another sudden decision.

“Hey, think I could borrow your phone? Need to call a cab, don’t fancy enduring this ridiculous walk again,” Dean uttered, nudging his head towards the steep slope of the street behind him. He had a cottage to find, and a trip to plan, with little time to waste.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've got other stories in progress...but I really need to get this one out.

The trip from London to Glasgow took Dean just over two hours. He managed to find a flight without too much struggle and winged the rest of the trip much as he had the first. Even after the bus ride he somehow managed to get to the town of Dalmally in less than eight hours. It was probably not the best idea to show up to Aidan’s remote getaway location without any notice, but he was determined, and unwilling to go any longer without seeing his friend. Something in his heart told him he was making the right decision, and Aidan was never the type to get angry over such things anyway.

Dean grinned as he thought about the curly haired brunet. Just thinking about Aidan’s overwhelming joyous smile had him feeling lighter than he had in a long while. The other man had the ability to lift the spirits of anyone within ten metres of him, and with no more than a tilt of his head. It had been far too long since they last saw one another face to face, and Dean found he was eagerly looking forward to just sitting down next to the Irish man and sharing a beer or an evening of light-hearted conversation.

He’d been completely and utterly lost the moment he stepped off the bus in Dalmally but he took in his surroundings with a keen eye. Dean loved seeing new places and experiencing new cultures. He couldn’t resist taking a few shots of the small town. There was definitely something different about the place. It had an unusual charm, seemed quiet and filled with life all at the same time. There was a strange feeling in the air, and the light breeze felt crisp despite the still mild weather of his surroundings. It spoke of the approaching change of seasons, and a mystical quality that was unique to so many regions of Scotland. It was almost eerie, and it made Dean want to immerse himself in the area, explore everywhere, and never leave.

The few people he met seemed friendly enough, and Dean managed to grapple some directions out of the barkeep in one of the resident pubs. He bought a beer and another bottle of water, and after mingling with a few of the locals, succeeded in hitching a ride closer to the loch, for which he was extremely grateful. The sun was just beginning to set when Dean walked down the nearly invisible dirt path to the cottage Aidan was allegedly renting, and he felt incredibly serene as he took in his surroundings with a hint of a smile.

Remote was an understatement.

The forestry was pretty thick, more so than he was expecting, and he had spotted several hiking paths winding around the area. It would be fun to spend a day amidst the trees, though he’d more than likely get lost on his own. The place was set on a slant in the terrain, and from where Dean stood he could see the loch beyond, complete with what looked like a small dock and wooden boat rocking on the surface of the water. The setting sun was beginning to light the water with beautiful orange and blue tones, and Dean itched to get his camera out and take some more shots, but he figured it could wait for another evening. The cottage itself was wooden, and rather small, with large windows and a deck running along the entire outside. It was more of a cabin really, but it looked cozy and inviting. There was a worn and rusty car parked on the grass nearby, and Dean figured Aidan was renting it for the duration of his visit. There probably wasn’t a whole lot of selection in a place like this.

The blond approached the cottage door apprehensively, and ran his hand over the scruff on his chin before he scratched his nose. He was suddenly worried. Perhaps he was overstepping his bounds. Dean had always considered Aidan a close friend, ever since their audition together for The Hobbit, but he really should have called or contacted the other man before showing up at his doorstep on a whim. Not to mention, Aidan’s neighbour had said something about him wanting some time to himself, and here Dean was, standing at the front door to his isolated holiday location, just a knock away from interrupting the other man’s peaceful vacation. But it was too late for him to turn around. It would take several hours at least for Dean to find his way back to an inn in Dalmally, and he was completely exhausted. He barely slept on his lengthy flight from New Zealand, and he spent all day travelling even more after arriving in London. The bag on his shoulder was heavy, and Dean really wanted to sit down, regardless of whether or not he was intruding.

He mustered his courage and rapped on the door three times, waiting for a response. No answer came, and Dean cleared his throat and knocked again, calling out Aidan’s name. Dean stood still for a few moments but eventually just went for it and turned the door handle, surprised to find it unlocked, before he pushed the door open and stepped inside the log cabin. The wood groaned with the movement and Dean peered further into the place, spotting no movement in his immediate vision.

Dean toed off his shoes, stretching out his feet inside his socks and padded lightly across the wood grain floor. It didn’t take him long to find the kitchen, and he could see just about every end of the cabin from where he stood, taking in the open format with curious eyes. There was a tiny hallway with two doors that Dean assumed led to a bathroom and bedroom. In front of him and directly connected to the kitchenette was a tiny dining area, conjoined with a cozy looking sitting area complete with a fireplace. The residence smelled like pine, and a hint of something else, which Dean identified as ginger when he spotted the open pot of tea still settled atop the stove. There was a sweater thrown over the back of a chair that made Dean snicker lightly, and a few comfy blankets strewn about a soft sofa. There were some dirty dishes left by the sink and other knickknacks on the counters and table tops that screamed of Aidan, and Dean smiled fondly as he picked up a picture frame featuring the entire Hobbit cast. He wondered exactly how long indefinitely meant, and figured Aidan meant to stay for quite some time, especially if he even brought photos along on his trip. Though it wasn’t completely out of character for the other man to hold on to such mementos wherever he might travel. It was more than likely his little stuffed teddy came along for the trip as well. Dean was still taking in his surroundings when a high pitched rattling sound caught his attention, and he froze as he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye.

Dean turned slowly, taking in the monstrous form that approached him, and his eyes widened as he recognized it as some kind of dog. It was white, and charmingly fluffy, but its sheer size was more than enough to intimidate a person. Dean struggled to hold his ground as the dog stepped closer, but to Dean’s surprise the animal did little more than sit down in front of him and wag his tail from side to side. Dean found himself grinning at the friendly eyes staring up at him, so reminiscent of Aidan’s puppy dog expression.

“Hey boy,” Dean murmured, kneeling gradually as he held out a hand for the dog to sniff. Its head inched forward a bit and then it stuck out its tongue, licking at the blond’s fingers playfully. Dean couldn’t resist showing him some attention, and he reached his hands up to scratch behind its ears. The dog closed its eyes in bliss and soaked it all up while Dean found himself chuckling under his breath.

“Aren’t you a friendly guy, what’s your name?” Dean asked to no one in particular, and he moved some of the pale curls away from the dog’s neck until he came upon a collar.

“Sam, eh?” Dean whispered with a smile, and he toyed with the metal dog tag before looking into Sam’s eyes imploringly.

“Don’t suppose you know where Aidan’s at?” Dean asked, and Sam raised one ear slightly though he remained seated in place. Dean’s gaze lifted to where the dog had come from and he eyed the open screen door that led outside and beyond the cabin. He could see the shoreline through it, and stood carefully and hoisted his bag over his shoulder as he walked towards the opening, Sam following along behind. There was a patio out the back, and the view was incredible. The mountainous landscape was visible on the horizon, and the water glistened with the last rays of the setting sun, but Dean found his eyes drifting towards another view altogether.

Aidan was sprawled just outside; his body slumped in a wooden chair that looked comfortable despite the rigid material. His head was lolled to the side, black curls falling gently across his face, and his lips were parted slightly in the midst of sleep. He had a heavy wool blanket wrapped about his lower half, and a loose pale blue sweater draped across his shoulders. A book was sprawled on the deck, some of the pages crumpled from an obvious fall. Dean felt his spirit lighten as he took in the other man’s appearance. He looked just as he remembered him, though perhaps a tad thinner, and the blond was hesitant to disturb his slumber.

Dean knelt and lifted the book, straightening it out the best he could before sitting in a neighbouring chair. He watched Aidan calmly as the sun lowered further in the sky, letting out the occasional yawn as his trip finally caught up to him. He was still reluctant to say anything and shock the other man from sleep, and in the end it was Sam that woke him, resting his head on Aidan’s lap and licking at his hands. The brunet stirred and pulled his fingers away from the contact, a grimace forming on his face as he blinked his eyes wearily.

“Ugh, Sam,” Aidan groaned, and Dean smirked from his spot beside him. He hid his laughter the best he could and waited patiently for the other to take notice of his presence.

“Did I fall asleep without feeding you again?” Aidan muttered, his hand moving to trail through Sam’s wavy fur. He looked as though he might easily fall back asleep again, his gaze fading out as he stared into Sam’s searching eyes, but Dean shifted slightly and Aidan turned towards him quickly, his eyes wide and afraid.

“Hey Aid!” Dean spoke up as the other man made eye contact with him, and he nearly faltered under Aidan’s stare. The brunet seemed confused, and he frowned, his mouth opening in surprise as he took in the sight beside him. A few awkward moments passed, without a word spoken between them and finally Aidan tilted his head to the side in recognition.

“…Dean?” Aidan whispered, so quiet that it nearly went unheard. If the blond had not been staring directly at him and waiting for a response, he probably would have missed it altogether.

“Surprise!” Dean responded, his lips rising in a grin so wide the dimples were clearly visible in his cheeks. Aidan gaped at him and took a few shaky breaths before he sat up gingerly and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“What…what are you doing here?” Aidan asked in wonder, and Dean felt his fingers clench together anxiously. He couldn’t tell if the other man was angry or not at his presence.

“I’ve got a bit of a break between jobs and thought it was time I dropped by for a visit. It’s been a while since we had a chance to see each other. I hopped on a plane to England…I guess almost two days ago now. Wow, it doesn’t seem that long ago,” Dean rambled a bit, suddenly aware of how long he’d gone without a full night’s rest. Aidan’s eyes were roving across his form searchingly, as though he thought the other man was some sort of otherworldly entity.

“Was I ever surprised to find your flat empty! But I managed to get your location out of your neighbour, nice fellow by the way. Before I knew it I’d hopped on another plane, and here I am!” Dean explained, and he gestured to their surroundings with both hands. The brunet didn’t respond, looking a little bit lost beneath his warm blanket, and Dean began to grow worried at Aidan’s lack of reaction. The other man still seemed stunned by his sudden appearance, and Dean sincerely hoped his unscheduled visit hadn’t disturbed him too much.

“I’ve got just under two weeks; hope you don’t mind me intruding? I can head out in the morning if you’d rather the time to yourself?” Dean offered as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin their friendship by acting overly pushy. But almost immediately Aidan’s eyes flew open and his body jerked forward at the suggestion.

“No!” Aidan shouted, and Dean jolted as the other man reached out towards him quickly. The brunet’s hand paused just short of grabbing his plaid shirt and he pulled it back towards his chest swiftly before sitting up even further in the seat.  

“I…I don’t mind at all, it’s so good to see you again. I just wasn’t expecting any visitors, you startled me a bit,” Aidan remarked as he fiddled with the edge of the wool. He bit his lip sheepishly, and directed his attention towards Sam who placed his head atop the brunet’s lap and looked up at him with wide eyes. Aidan was more than a little on edge and he busied his hands with petting the dog’s soft fur. Dean observed him warily but still managed to relax slightly at his words, and just a few minutes later the two men had fallen back into their previous camaraderie. It was always easy being with Aidan. The brunet had an uncanny ability to make those nearby feel at ease, and in minutes the two were laughing and enjoying each other’s company just as they had since they first met. Dean told Aidan everything about his life in New Zealand since the end of filming, even occasionally elaborating on things mentioned through email. He was so happy to finally be able to speak to Aidan face to face that he failed to notice just how vague his friend was when speaking about his own life.

“So what brought all of this on?” Dean finally asked, as the two watched the stars appear one by one above them. It was dark outside, beneath the open sky and far away from large cities, but the soft glow from within the cabin supplied enough light that Dean could see the other man’s form fairly well. Aidan bit his lip and directed a strained smile in his direction, one that seemed foreign and out of place on his face.

“Oh…well, just seemed like the thing to do. Work was a bit slow anyway,” Aidan voiced, his eyes drifting away to look towards the loch pensively.

“It wasn’t hard to make the choice,” he claimed softly. Dean could just barely see the glint of his eyes from his angle and the other man appeared lost in his own thoughts as he stared out at the still water. Dean was tempted to reach out and take hold of him, pull him back to reality, but the blond kept his hands firmly clasped together in his lap.

“You’ve got a nice place here, beautiful view, lots of sights to see.   Keeping busy?” Dean probed after a lengthy silence, and Aidan snapped out of his reverie and shifted towards him.

“Nah I don’t do much really. The occasional walk around the loch. Some fishing when the weather’s good for it. Reading, relaxing,” the brunet listed casually.

“I’ve been sleeping a lot, to be honest. You know, just catching up, getting rested,” Aidan admitted with a wave of his hand. He smiled slightly and Dean made a noncommittal noise at the declaration while he studied the other man’s face. It might have been the poor lighting, but Dean couldn’t help but think that Aidan actually looked very unrested. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, and creases in his brow that he didn’t remember being there before. His stubble was growing in as well, though Dean figured that was just because the other man was on holiday. It was probably nothing; after all, he had interrupted the other man in the middle of a nap.

“Oh! Hey, I just remembered,” Dean mentioned as he bent and unzipped his bag. He shuffled around in it, once again searching for the parcel, before pulling it out and holding it out to his friend.

“Brought a little something for you,” Dean said with a wink, and Aidan pointed at himself in question and raised his brows before taking it in hand. He took his time unwrapping it, lifting the tape carefully at first, but he soon grew annoyed and ripped the paper from the box hurriedly. His excitement was obvious, and Dean grinned as he watched the other man lift the lid and peek inside at the contents. Aidan’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth in surprise, lifting one of the items from the box.

“K-Bars!” he shouted, already working on peeling the foil from the raspberry flavoured toffee. Aidan made a face of absolute bliss as he chewed on the candy and Dean laughed at his exaggerated expression.

“These are the best, and you got me Twisties too! And Whittaker’s, oh my god, this chocolate is amazing,” Aidan practically moaned as he sifted through everything in the box.

“You didn’t have to bring me all this!” the brunet exclaimed, even as he opened up another candy and popped it in his mouth.

“What are you talking about? I received threats!” Dean accused playfully, and Aidan burst out into hearty laughter, lifting his fist to his face to bite on his knuckles. He was smiling just the way Dean remembered and the blond man felt his heart swell at the sight. Aidan reached over suddenly, pulling him into a tight embrace whispering his thanks into Dean’s ear. The brunet hugged him firmly, almost desperately, and Dean was startled by the force of it. He could smell the sweet scent of whatever lemon confection Aidan was chewing on, and Dean wrapped his arms around him in return.

“You’re really here?” Aidan whispered as he pulled away to look in his eyes, still gripping the other man’s arms tightly.

“In the flesh,” Dean muttered in return, caught by the brunet’s dark gaze. It took several moments for the two to pull away from one another, leaving them sitting in awkward silence. Occasionally Aidan would nibble on a candy and eventually Dean cleared his throat in an attempt to ease the tension.

“So, Sam, eh?” he commented, looking towards the big dog that was rolling around on its back atop the deck. It lifted its head and trotted over to them at the sound of its name.

“Everyone needs a Sam!” Aidan insisted, moving the box from his lap and making room for the dog to settle between his legs. The brunet leant forwards and scratched gently behind Sam’s ears, just as Dean had inside the cottage.

“What breed is he?” Dean asked curiously.

“Irish Wolfhound, big sucker isn’t he?” Aidan commented, and Dean let out a bark of laughter.

“Understatement of the year,” he replied, taking in the size of the animal. Dean wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a dog quite so big in real life before.

“But…he’s a gentle giant, aren’t you Sam?” Aidan cooed, pressing his nose against Sam’s wet one. He was rewarded with several licks to the face and scrunched up his brow a bit at the feeling, turning his face slightly off to the side with a laugh.

“Didn’t make a sound when I walked in your front door, just trotted on over and waited for a pat on the head,” Dean sniggered and the brunet gasped dramatically.

“Some guard dog you are!” Aidan accused, looking into the dog’s caramel eyes, but his voice was light, and he continued to fuss over his furry friend. The two made a ridiculously endearing sight, and Dean had no qualms over watching them make puppy eyes at one another as Aidan whispered sweet nothings into Sam’s fur. They really were two of a kind.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the great comments so far! I love hearing from everyone!

The tiny cabin only had one bedroom, and despite Aidan’s offer to sleep on the sofa, Dean refused to push his friend from his own bed. It didn’t bother him one bit, and to be honest, he wasn’t awake long enough to even judge how soft the sofa was. As soon as Dean’s head hit the borrowed downy pillow he was out.

He woke in the morning to a soft light peaking in through the windows and the sound of nature all around him. He could hear the water lapping gently at the shore, and even the leaves in the trees rustling just outside. Dean snuggled under one of Aidan’s flannel blankets, shifting his legs around a bit as he stretched and decided whether or not to ignore his bladder, but eventually he had no other choice but to get up and brave the early morning chill.

Dean made a point of stopping just outside Aidan’s room when he noticed the slightly ajar door. He couldn’t resist peeking inside, and his face broke into a grin when he saw Aidan sill sleeping peacefully beneath his blankets, Sam curled up across his feet and taking up just as much space. Dean set about exploring the cottage a little more thoroughly, lighting a fire in the hearth in an attempt to warm the place a bit. He rifled through the fridge, taking note of the distinct lack of food and beer.   His eyebrow rose slightly at the barren interior, Aidan was clearly in need of a trip into town.   Dean did manage to find a few eggs, and some bacon in the freezer that looked edible enough to satisfy his rumbling stomach, and he set about mixing in some spices that would hopefully work together.   He was just lifting the bacon from the pan when Aidan strolled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Breakfast?” Dean offered, holding out a plate to the other man, and Aidan eyed him curiously while he stalled in the entrance.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, lowering the plate to the island between their bodies.

“N-nothing,” Aidan stuttered as he stepped forward and took a seat atop a stool, muttering a thank you as he took a bite of bacon.

“I just…wasn’t really sure if yesterday was a dream or not,” the brunet elaborated between mouthfuls, and Dean chuckled under his breath and poured them each a glass of orange juice.

“I still can’t believe you flew all the way out here just to visit me, these eggs are great by the way,” Aidan continued, his eyes brightening as he took another bite. Dean beamed at the compliment and sat across from him eagerly.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat Aid,” Dean said, swallowing his first forkful. He nodded to himself, oddly proud of his work, simple as it was, and he pointed his fork towards the man across from him as he swallowed.

“You’re my best friend,” Dean voiced earnestly, drawing a slight blush from the other man. Aidan took a few more bites and tossed a piece of bacon to the ground. It was quickly scavenged by their furry companion.

“I’d say you’re mine…but Sam here is a tough contender,” Aidan joked and Dean shoved him over the counter playfully, nearly knocking him from the stool. The two burst out into laughter, the brunet trying to cover his mouth and the food he was still in the midst of chewing. It was a fantastic start to their day, and much of the rest proved just as enjoyable.

The two men decided to make a trip into central Dalmally, at Dean’s insistence, and Aidan showed him around all of the quaint little shops and galleries. Dean took hundreds of photos, and could have spent hours just looking at the artwork in the stores. He studied an oil painting depicting an old woman fast asleep atop Ben Cruachan for several minutes before he noticed Aidan staring off into space beside him. The brunet had his hands in his pockets and his eyes were glazed over as he looked towards nothing in particular. The light from outside backlit his form and he looked almost surreal, lost in time.

Dean knelt and lifted the camera hanging from his neck before he snapped a few pictures, pleased with the results. It was almost as if the other man was surrounded by some kind of aura, a pure white light that cascaded from his body. Dean lowered his camera and stared at Aidan for a solid minute, growing worried as the other man remained frighteningly still and ignored his surroundings.

“Aidan?” Dean voiced gently, but when he received no response the blond stood and reached out to touch his friend’s shoulder.

“Aid?” Dean spoke again as he made contact, and Aidan jolted beside him and turned to look at him with wide eyes. It didn’t take long for the brunet to get embarrassed, and a deep flush appeared on his skin as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“This must be boring you,” Dean supposed, though his voice was friendly and his expression understanding.

“No, it isn’t at all!” Aidan immediately replied, his hands waving drastically in front of his body in defense. Dean raised and arm and wrapped it around his friend’s shoulder encouragingly as he tugged the other man close.

“I’m sure you’ve seen everything in town a billion times over already,” he observed, figuring the village of Dalmally was probably easily explored in a single day. The two of them had already exhausted most of its attractions in just a few hours. Dean was just the type to take his time with things.

“Not _everything_ ,” Aidan muttered, his eyes veering towards the paintings on the wall as he nibbled at his lower lip.

“Oh, the Cailleach,” the brunette commented, tilting his head slightly to the side. Aidan nudged his body into Dean’s side and reached a hand up to scratch at his ear.

“They say she fell asleep atop the mountain one day, and a well she watched overflowed as a result, running down the land and creating Loch Awe as we know it today,” Aidan explained as he nodded towards the painting of the old woman atop Ben Cruachan. Dean studied it for a few more seconds, unsure whether or not the woman was supposed to be friendly or not. She had a scowl across her sleeping features, but an otherworldly quality that made her seem like some sort of goddess. Regardless, Dean really liked the painting.

“Well I guess I should thank her then,” Dean muttered, nudging Aidan back with a smile.

“What for? Creating the loch? You know a lot of people just think of her as some hag right?” Aidan queried as they turned away from the painting.

“That hag is the reason I’m here with you,” the blond confessed and Aidan stopped in his tracks. He wasn’t quite sure what to think and his breathing quickened as he took in Dean’s bashful but sincere expression.

“Mate, you are the cheesiest of the cheese,” Aidan teased lightly, his eyes filled with mirth, though his heart was warmed by the confession.

“You like cheese and you know it,” Dean accused him, laughing all the while. They both ended up purchasing a variety of small prints and cards as souvenirs before making their way out of the small gallery, the bell ringing as it knocked against the door. When they arrived back at Aidan’s rental car, it was a struggle to get all of their purchases into the tiny trunk. There were bags of groceries, a case of beer, various boxes and merchandise from souvenir shops and even a few rental movies for the two of them to watch during the next two weeks. They may have overdone it just a little.

Aidan closed the trunk and collapsed against the vehicle with a loud sigh. He was losing steam after walking around for the better part of a day, and he twisted the keys around in his hand and rubbed at his brow in a frustrated manner as Dean shoved a few more parcels into the back seat. The brunet flinched as the door slammed shut and he pushed away from the car with a frown.

“You okay?” Dean asked with concerned eyes as he observed his friend over the top of the car.

“Yeah, just a bit of a headache,” Aidan spoke, and he tried to keep the strain from showing on his face as a sharp pain throbbed in his skull.

“Hey, how about you drive, and I’ll tell you where to go,” Aidan suggested, and before he even had an answer the brunet had tossed the keys towards the other man and walked towards the passenger seat. Dean didn’t argue, though he did watch his friend carefully, and soon enough the car was pulling back down the dirt road beside the little cottage. They unpacked the bags in a few trips, and Dean loaded the fridge up before collapsing on the sofa next to the other man. The cushion sank beneath his weight and he relaxed into the cushy material, laying his arm across the back.

“Which movie did you want to watch tonight, Die Hard, or The Princess Bride?” Dean asked, sifting through the selection of DVDs they picked at random, though admittedly he had a soft spot for most of them, even the romantic comedies.

“Actually I think I might just turn in for the night,” Aidan muttered, tossing the other man a sheepish look.

“Already? It’s only eight, and we haven’t had supper yet,” Dean voiced in surprise. His eyes narrowed as he took in the other man’s appearance, noticing the way Aidan’s eyes were moist and bloodshot, and how he was hunched forwards slightly on the sofa.

“Sorry, I know I’m being a bad host, I’m just a bit tired,” Aidan tried to explain, and the blond had to admit he looked more than a little haggard.

“Hey it’s alright, really, don’t worry about it,” Dean reassured. He knew there was more to it. The other man had seemed off since they got back in the car, but he held his tongue as Aidan stood to get ready for bed.

“The fresh air up here knocks the energy right out of you; I’m a bit tired myself,” Dean admitted with a smile as he looked up at the other man, and Aidan relaxed and smiled at him gratefully.

“’Night,” Aidan whispered, waving over his shoulder, and Dean returned the sentiment and watched him walk down the small hallway. He was worried. Aidan hadn’t spoken much and was absent minded for much of the trip back from Dalmally. It had been a pretty eventful trip into town, and maybe Aidan was just adjusting to having a friend around all of the time, but it seemed like something more was going on. Dean took a deep breath and put Die Hard in the player, settling in for some mindless action. He decided not to press the issue. Aidan would tell him if it was important, and all and all, it had been a good first day in the other man’s company. Dean settled on his side atop the soft cushions, and not long after closing his eyes he fell asleep to the lulling sound of Alan Rickman’s German accent.           

* * *

The next few days went by in a blur of activity. Dean and Aidan had no issues spending nearly every waking moment together. They went for walks along the shore, Sam trailing along with them and exploring the rock formations around the loch. They toured through a few of the hiking paths, though didn’t venture into some of the more overgrown and long winding trails. They cooked together and watched movies, laughing beside each other on the sofa. It turned out both of them were hopeless romantics, and they’d caught each other shedding tears on more than one occasion during terribly sappy moments in the films.

Dean was pretty sure everything was absolutely perfect. He hadn’t felt so happy since filming The Hobbit, and even then he’d been half asleep and overworked most of the time, unable to enjoy the company of friends. It didn’t take long for him to realise it was Aidan that brought him happiness. Dean could listen to the Irish man speak for days and not grow tired of his voice or presence. He possessed a smile that lit up a room, and his laughter was so bold and filled with joy that it lifted the spirits of all those around him. Dean knew he was sentimental to the point of being cavity inducing, but he couldn’t help it. Aidan was just…something special.

Dean shuffled around in the fridge one afternoon before they started up a game of Battleship. He’d found the stack of board games in the hall closet just the day before, and the two had sifted through them, eagerly picking out a few of their favourites.

“Beer?” Dean asked, holding up a bottle in question, but Aidan shook his head as he worked to set up the game board.

“Oh, no thanks. I actually gave up alcohol,” he revealed, lowering his head shyly.  

“Really?” Dean pressed, more surprised than anything else. He couldn’t count the number of times they’d shared a beer over dinner in New Zealand, at bars, or even in their trailers. The blond shut the fridge door and walked over to the table tentatively.

“You don’t mind if I have one do you?” Dean asked, wondering why the other man hadn’t mentioned it the other day in town. He would have bought something else, juice, or pop, or something they both would enjoy.

“No, no, nothing like that! It’s just not for me. I’m all about tea lately,” Aidan reassured, and he proved the point by setting up the kettle on the stove. The cupboard in the kitchen was filled with a variety of different flavours, but it seemed the brunet favoured ginger above all others as he pulled it from the shelves without a second thought.

“Hey actually, mind making me a cup of that too?” Dean requested, recalling the appealing smell of it from when he first arrived. It was a smell he’d started associating with his friend, as it lingered in the cabin and sometimes even in the other man’s clothes. Not that Dean often made a point of sniffing at his friend. He just didn’t pass up the opportunity to inhale deeply in his presence. That wasn’t so bad, right?  

“Sure!” Aidan gushed, looking overly zealous at the prospect, and he busied himself with setting up some cups on the counter. Dean found it hard to look away, but he managed eventually, his attention moving to the instruction booklet for the board game. He’d played plenty of times as a child, but it had been years, so there was no harm in a little refresher, in fact there were several rules he didn’t remember at all. The kettle sounded in the background and Dean kept reading with interest, though he turned around quickly when a loud smash erupted from behind him.

Aidan was looking lost where he leant against the countertop, his hands frozen in midair as he eyed the ground in surprise. Dean stood in a hurry and stepped closer, gawking at the mess on the ground. Tea was everywhere, and the shattered remains of a teacup were scattered across the wooden floor.

“I-I’m sorry,” Aidan stuttered, his voice shaky and his eyes wide with fear. He was staring at his hands in wonder and he seemed overly upset for having just broken a teacup. Dean was pretty sure the cups came with the cottage, and weren’t all that valuable, it really wasn’t a big deal.

“It just…slipped,” Aidan murmured, his voice so quiet that Dean had to strain to hear him. The brunet moved to step towards the island but Dean held out a hand to stop him.

“Wait! Don’t move,” he shouted, and the other man jolted again, recoiling back against the cupboards behind him.

“It’s alright, I’ll get it,” Dean ushered, in a softer voice and he bent down to wipe up the mess, picking up the broken pieces of porcelain with care. Aidan’s feet were bare and covered in tea, flaring red burn marks visible on his skin and Dean nearly cursed at the sight. At least he managed to stop him from stepping on the shattered remains of the cup.    

“Aid,” Dean voiced, looking up at his friend with concern. Aidan barely reacted, still shaking slightly as he gazed sightlessly at his hands. The blond hurried to clean up the rest of the mess and wiped over the other man’s feet as gently as he could before standing up and looking Aidan in the eyes.

“Aid, it’s okay, just an accident,” Dean reassured, running his fingers gently through his friend’s dark curls. Aidan looked towards him warily and barely nodded before clenching his fingers into fists.

“Yeah…, you’re right,” he confirmed, though even Dean wasn’t one hundred percent sure what just happened. He wished he hadn’t looked away, wished he’d seen how the cup slipped from his friend’s hands. Maybe then he might understand his over the top reaction. Dean ushered him towards a stool and bent to look his feet over, while Aidan sat quietly atop the wooden seat. Thankfully the burns didn’t seem too serious.

Sam strolled over to inspect things curiously, and lapped away at the floor, far more excited for the taste of tea than a dog ever should be. Dean might have laughed at the sight if he hadn’t felt so tense. Aidan’s hands were trembling and he still seemed absent, lost again in his mind. Dean wasn’t sure what to do, so he poured each of them what was left of the tea, watching his friend carefully over the rim of his cup as they drank in silence. He didn’t miss the way Aidan’s cup shook against the surface of the counter as he lifted it or the hesitance in his movements each time he took a sip. The instruction manual went forgotten atop the table and they didn’t end up playing battleship at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Cailleach: is a divine hag, a creator deity and weather deity. There are many stories involving her in Scottish and Irish mythology. Cailleach literally means 'hag' in modern Scottish Gaelic, according to Wikipedia that is ;)


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to say. But I'd love to hear what everyone thinks of this chapter.

Nearly a week had passed since Dean first set foot on Aidan’s doorstep, and it had been one of the best weeks of the blond Kiwi’s life. The two men spent a good part of their time just relaxing and watching movies, even more so since the awkward incident in the kitchen. The following morning Aidan seemed keen to forget about his little slip up entirely, and Dean certainly didn’t want to bring it up. There were moments of course, that the urge was there, when the brunet seemed lost and faraway, or when he rubbed at his temples and brow to ease the pain of a splitting headache. Dean didn’t think they were good moments to bother his friend though, and during the rest of their time together, Aidan was so visibly happy, the blond just couldn’t bring himself to spoil the mood. He did his best to let his worries vanish into the depths of his mind, but it was difficult to keep them hidden when the other man was clearly hiding something.

The brunet slept an unhealthy amount, especially for how tired he always seemed to look. He rose in the morning long after Dean, sometimes missing breakfast altogether, and he always turned in at night fairly early. Dean watched over him on occasion, sometimes standing at his doorway for as much as an hour, or until the other man began to stir. It was entrancing watching Aidan in the midst of dreamland. He seemed so at peace, so relaxed. His shoulders weren’t tensed up, and his brow wasn’t furrowed like it was during every waking moment. Watching him made Dean feel slightly uneasy, but the blond was on some level comforted by the slow rise and fall of his friend’s chest as he breathed in and out.

Sometimes Aidan seemed determined to get through a movie and stay up as late as Dean, almost as though he felt guilty, and was afraid of upsetting his friend. On one occasion Aidan even nodded off completely in the middle of talking, his body slumping against the blond while still seated on the sofa. Dean was shocked initially, by the weight of Aidan’s head atop his shoulder and the brush of curls against his skin, but he did not have the heart to wake the other man. Aidan woke the following day a scatterbrained mess, flushing and apologizing when he realised the pillow beneath him was actually his friend, and his bed was actually the sofa. Dean reassured him, as he always did, that there was nothing to worry about. Despite the crick in his neck, he’d actually slept quite well tucked beneath the warmth of Aidan’s body.

It was the middle of the day, and Aidan had excused himself for an afternoon nap, another fairly regular occurrence over the past few days. They’d eaten lunch in town that day, at one of the nicer restaurants, both returning to the cottage feeling more than a little overstuffed, and in Aidan’s case, exhausted. Dean occupied himself for a bit with a crossword puzzle, but grew distracted by the remnants of the steak left between his teeth. He rifled around in his bag, growing more and more frustrated as he realised he left his floss back in New Zealand.

Dean cursed and threw his bag down with a huff. There was nothing worse than the feeling of food between his teeth. It was distracting, and he hurried to the washroom, sifting through the drawer beneath the sink. Surely Aidan had floss, or tooth picks or something, so he scoured the entire room until noticing the mirror flipped open from the wall. Dean grinned and pulled it open, taking in the few shelves eagerly. He spotted the floss quickly and picked it up between his fingers, but his eyes immediately strayed to some of the other items beside it. Dean faltered, his hand hovering in midair as he noticed the sheer number of pill bottles and medicines, many of which went unrecognized. There were several with RX labels and Dean held his breath as he eyed them curiously. The blond blinked a few times and slammed the mirror shut. It was none of his business what Aidan was taking, end of story. He busied himself with his teeth, sighing in satisfaction after cleaning them thoroughly. Dean smiled at himself in the mirror but his eyes strayed to the little handle on the side, and his grin faltered.

 _Shit_.

He couldn’t stop thinking about those bottles. He must have stood there for five minutes, blinking at the edge of the mirror indecisively, but eventually he whipped it open again and breathed in deep as he studied each of the labels. His hand reached out, turning the bottles and boxes around so he could read them more thoroughly. He recognized a few painkillers, but a couple of them were complete mysteries. One looked like a regular dosage medicine, with instructions for taking it every other day. The little hexagonal pills came in a box labelled Dexamethasone. Dean swallowed uncomfortably as he took in the extensive list of possible side effects. He hurriedly put the box back, and then lifted the one beside it labelled Dilantin. He twisted the cap off, struggling a bit with the child safety mechanism before looking inside. The pills were red and white, fairly large, and altogether far too medicinal looking. That explained the sudden disinterest in alcohol. Who knew what sort of interactions drugs like these ones caused.

Dean felt his eyes welling up, and he popped the cap back on the pill bottle and placed things back in order as quick as he could. He took a few steadying breaths as he closed the mirror. He was getting worked up before he even knew what the medicines were for. They might not have even belonged to Aidan. Maybe the previous renter left them behind. It could have been anything, or nothing at all. But…it also could have been serious.        

It looked serious.

Dean fell back against the towel rack behind him, as he blinked his eyes rapidly, willing away the moisture forming in his tear ducts. Realistically, something was up. Aidan had been distant, easily flustered, and nowhere near the same as usual, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Dean’s fingers picked uselessly at the towels behind him as he stared at nothing in particular. He clenched his hands tight and walked into the hallway, frowning at the open door that led to Aidan’s room before peeking inside. The man was sound asleep, and Dean wanted to shake him awake, and probe him for questions. He could envision the other man’s scandalized expression already, and the thought of scaring Aidan, or hurting him, betraying him by snooping, kept him from doing so. Sam’s head bumped into the back of his hip, and Dean startled, turning towards the dog in surprise. His hand settled atop the dog’s head and he calmed down in an instant, sighing heavily as he closed his eyes. Dean took one last look at Aidan and backed away from the door, walking with Sam towards the living area. As soon as he sat down the dog was practically in his lap, soaking up what little attention the blond could give him in his distracted state.

“What should I do Sam?” Dean asked, looking into the dogs golden eyes, hoping to find some kind of solution. Sam nudged at his shoulder, and settled his head atop his lap, watching him as though he understood that something was wrong and was ready to listen. Dogs were good at that, sensing things, and Dean was comforted by his presence even though his question went unanswered.

Dean spent the rest of his afternoon seated on the couch, contemplating what to do. He was beyond worried. In a few days he had to leave and head back to New Zealand. He didn’t want to go, still wondering what was wrong, but there was little he could do. Obviously Aidan wasn’t comfortable talking about whatever was going on, so he wouldn’t press the issue. It was up to Aidan.

The brunet in question eventually strolled in, looking sleep tousled, and smiling in a way that made Dean’s heart skip a beat. It took a moment, but Dean managed to mask his worries. He smiled back, pretending he never saw the medicines in the cabinet at all, and his aggressive grip on Sam’s fur was the only indication that something was wrong internally.   

* * *

Dean had grown so accustomed to Aidan sleeping in late that he was genuinely surprised when the other man strolled into the kitchen early one morning, with a grin nearly splitting his face in half.

“We’re going out on the water today!” the brunet declared enthusiastically, and after they each scarfed down a bowl of cheerios the two men made their way down to the dock. Dean boarded the rickety boat carefully, doing his best to keep his camera equipment dry. It rocked beneath his feet a few times as he found a spot, but eventually steadied beneath his weight. Aidan tossed him a lifejacket and an oar, and the two rowed their way down the loch, stopping occasionally to take in some of the sights along the way. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and the sky was remarkably clear for Scotland. Even the few splashes of water that landed on Dean’s face and arms felt warmer than he expected. It was probably one of the last mild days of the year, and the temperature would no doubt begin to decline over the next several weeks. Dean soaked it up, turning his face up to the sky with a smile.

The two rowed at a leisurely pace, though Dean mostly followed Aidan’s lead. It didn’t take long before the blond noticed a structure on the shore not so far away, and he leant up beside Aidan, his camera perched in one hand.

“What’s that?” Dean asked, studying the rock formations through squinted eyes. As the boat approached he could barely make out the shape of a building, ancient, but still fairly well intact, built low to the water.

“That’s what we’re here to see,” Aidan voiced, continuing to paddle slowly. Dean helped, noticing the slight strain in his friend’s brow, and soon the two were so close they could have anchored and walked up on the shore. Instead they chose to stay in the boat, looking up at the building from their low viewpoint.

“Welcome to Kilchurn Castle,” Aidan said, as he manoeuvred the boat around the land, allowing Dean to see all angles of the structure. The stone was visibly crumbling away in several locations, but the structure seemed sound, and Dean had little difficulty imagining what the place might have looked like in its prime. It made for an impressive sight. Even though Dean had stood at the base of buildings five times as tall, there was something uniquely incredible about architecture from nearly six centuries prior.

“It’s unreal to think someone lived here once,” Dean muttered as he lifted his camera to frame several shots. He and Aidan were the only two people out on the loch, and miraculously no tourists were walking around the building. Their only companions were the gulls that flew about the sky.

“Thanks for bringing me out here to see it, I wouldn’t have even known something this cool was around here otherwise,” Dean murmured as he looked through his lens. He turned his camera towards his friend when he received no response. Aidan’s head was tilted to the side as he looked out over the water, his gaze distant as it so often was in recent days. Dean snapped a shot.

The wind blew through Aidan’s curls, and his eyelashes fluttered slightly in the breeze. Dean zoomed in, then snapped a shot.

Water lapped at the shore beside them and a stray drop landed on the brunet’s lower lip. Dean focused. He snapped a shot.

The blond felt heat spread throughout his body as he looked through the lens. He could see every freckle on his friend’s face, every blemish, every pore. He could see the flecks of colour in Aidan’s irises, and the individual hairs on his eyebrows. Then there were the tiny lines at the edges of his eyes and mouth, made from laughing and smiling with every muscle in his body. Dean swallowed. Suddenly he wasn’t so interested in the castle. His breathing was heavier than normal and his heart rate faster as emotions warred within his mind. He was so entranced that he nearly threw his camera from his body when Aidan’s brown eyes flicked towards him. Luckily Aidan was too embarrassed to notice his reaction. The brunet flushed and buried his face behind his hands, his eyes veering away once more, while Dean did his best to disappear behind his camera.

“Stop that! After this trip, you’ll have more photos of me than anything else, I swear,” Aidan hissed, though he seemed more flustered than upset. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle and snap a few more photos teasingly.

“Can’t help it, you’re so photogenic,” he claimed, though it was an entirely honest statement. The brunet looked good no matter what he was doing.

“Come on, smile for me?” Dean requested, and he stretched out his leg to nudge the other man with his foot. Aidan looked at him out of the corner of his eye but otherwise didn’t budge.

“Please?” Dean begged, his voice sickly sweet, and the brunet rolled his eyes dramatically. But finally he gave in and turned towards the other man with a shy smile. Dean snapped a shot.

It was a beautiful photo. The castle was visible in the background, and the water reflected the sunlight in a way that made Aidan appear ethereal. His dark hair contrasted so well with the pale blues and greens around him. Dean stared at the digital screen in awe.

“Here let’s get one together,” Dean suddenly suggested, and he sidled up next to Aidan, the two men squeezed together on the small plank inside the boat. It took a few tries to get their faces centred, and in one the strap of his camera covered most of the image, but eventually he managed to get a shot with both of their faces and the castle in it.

“Looks good,” Dean muttered, as he returned to his end of the boat. He scrolled through several of the pictures, smiling at a few, and deleting some that were blurred before raising his eyes towards his friend.   Aidan was eerily silent and watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite identify.

“What’s up? Something wrong?” Dean asked, flicking the power switch off on his camera.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Aidan whispered gently. He wasn’t frowning, but he certainly wasn’t smiling, and the lack of expression was foreign on his face. Dean shifted in his seat, and put his camera down, his full attention directed towards the other man.

“Me too,” he gushed, suddenly upset at the prospect of leaving in only a couple of days. Their time together had passed so quickly, and Dean would have given anything to spend another two weeks with Aidan doing exactly the same things another time over.

“Wanna head back?” Dean asked, noticing the signs of weariness in Aidan’s posture. The brunet nodded and moved to pick up the oars, but Dean stopped him and grabbed them from his hands.

“Here I’ll do it, you take a rest,” he expressed, sitting back into a comfortable position for rowing.

“You sure?” Aidan asked worriedly, and he nibbled his lip when Dean smiled and nodded towards him, propelling the boat into motion. Aidan slumped a bit, stretching out his long legs and resting his feet on Dean’s lap with a sheepish grin, but mere moments later he was lost in the land of dreams. Dean took his time rowing them back, stopping occasionally to just let the boat drift on its own. And despite the beautiful scenery all around, he was unable to take his eyes off of Aidan’s sleeping form.

* * *

The night before Dean was scheduled to leave he woke up to sounds of rushed stumbling in the hallway. The bathroom door slammed and he heard several knocks and clatters, followed by the obvious noise of violent retching. Dean pushed off the sofa in a hurry, looking down the small hallway in concern. The light was just visible beneath the bathroom door and Dean padded towards it, leaning up against the door as silently as he could manage. A few seconds later and his worries were confirmed. Aidan was definitely puking up what sounded like his entire innards, interrupted only by several loud bouts of coughing. The blond closed his eyes at the painful sound and knocked hesitantly on the door.

“Aidan?” Dean spoke, raising his voice just enough that it might be heard through the solid wood.

“Can I come in?” he asked gently, listening carefully as the coughing paused. Dean heard the other man shuffling around a bit, water running, and then the door knob twisted. Aidan opened the door just a crack, but it was enough for Dean to see just how worn out and ill his friend appeared.

“Don’ worry Deano,” Aidan croaked, trying to cover up his pain with a smile.

“Musta ate somethin’ weird,” he said with a forced laugh, and his speech was a bit slurred as he struggled to get the words out. Dean narrowed his eyes and pushed the door in. Clearly he caught Aidan by surprise, for the other man stumbled back, and put up little resistance against the effort. Dean steadied him and took a moment to really study his appearance under the bathroom lights. The brunet was pale and clammy, his entire body was shaking ever so slightly, and Dean reached out to wipe some stray hairs away from Aidan’s sweaty face. He knew his friend was lying. They’d both eaten the same thing for dinner, tomato soup and grilled cheese. There was no way this was a reaction to that.

Dean had just opened his mouth to say so when Aidan lurched and rushed back to the toilet with wide eyes. He heaved over the ceramic bowl several times and Dean was at his side instantly, pushing the loose curls away from his face and rubbing gentle circles across his back.  He left for a moment only to grab a glass of water, and did his best to help Aidan get some of it down, holding the other man’s shaky hands as he took tentative sips of the cool liquid. The brunet slumped against the toilet and looked at Dean with glassy eyes.

“You should sleep, you leave tomorro’,” he stammered between heavy gasps, and Dean nearly laughed out loud. The blond shook his head in disbelief and reached out a finger, running it across the bridge of Aidan’s nose.

“I’ll be fine, it’s you I’m worried about,” he insisted, returning his hands to Aidan’s hair as the brunet was hit with yet another wave of nausea. Aidan must have coughed up everything in his stomach including the lining when he finished. He was a shaky mess, his head was pressed flush against the cool ceramic of the toilet seat and Dean was shocked when the brunet let out a tiny sob. Aidan wiped at his face aggressively and reached out a hand, clenching his fingers in Dean’s shirt as he cried into the toilet bowl. Dean did little more than watch, too shocked at witnessing his friend’s emotional breakdown to do much of anything to help. He managed to interlock his fingers with Aidan’s, while he worriedly watched tears drip down the brunet’s face, his legs tucked awkwardly beneath his body on the ground.

It certainly wasn’t the way he envisioned ending his stay.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bring you a slightly longer chapter than the others. Sorry this update took so long. I've had some computer issues. My desktop is getting fixed at the moment, so there definitely wont be any art updates for a while. Thanks to everyone for sticking with this story this long! :)

Despite spending much of the previous night awake and on Aidan’s bathroom floor, Dean still stood at the front door of the cottage bright and early the following morning, fully packed and ready to go. The two men were poised across from one another, both unsure what to say. Aidan was white as a ghost, and still looking rather worse for wear with a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His dark eyes were staring fixedly at something in and around the blond’s shoes and an uneasy feeling settled in Dean’s gut the longer they remained standing in silence. It gave him more time to take in Aidan’s weary appearance, and it gave him more time to think.

It didn’t feel right, taking off when his friend was clearly not well. Aidan had turned down the offer of breakfast, opting just to sip on some tea, even though his stomach must have been terribly empty. It seemed as though each and every movement he made caused him immense pain. Dean fiddled with his shoulder bag as he zeroed in on the dark circles beneath Aidan’s eyes. It looked like the brunet hadn’t slept for a week. He didn’t want to leave.

“Can’t believe it’s been two weeks already,” Dean spoke up, trying to ward off the uncomfortable atmosphere that had settled around them.

“Yeah…,” Aidan trailed off as he toed nervously at the ground. His fingers tightened in the blanket around him and he seemed unable to maintain eye contact.

“We didn’t even go fishing like we talked about!” Dean commented as he ran a hand through his hair. He desperately wanted the brunet to smile at him, to give any sort of sign that he might be alright, but Aidan’s face remained impassive.

“I’ll have to come visit again, if you’re still up here,” Dean mentioned, and finally Aidan lifted his head and managed a partial smile, though he seemed drawn and his eyes were suspiciously glassy.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you into town? It’s a long walk,” Aidan suggested, his brow furrowed tight and his voice raspy and raw. Dean winced as he was reminded just how sick Aidan had been.

“You’re still not feeling well,” Dean answered, the concern apparent on his face, though he felt a hint of guilt creep up on him as the other man slumped his shoulders gloomily. In truth Dean would have loved Aidan to join him, so they might spend just a bit longer in each other’s company, and so that Aidan’s face would be the last thing he saw as he boarded the bus in Dalmally, but his friend really was in no condition to drive.

“Besides, there’s a path I wanted to try out anyway,” Dean said, plastering a grin on his features. He hoped it might raise the brunet’s spirits, but Aidan seemed more depressed than ever. The brunet shuffled his feet back and forth, pushing a tiny stone around on the wooden steps.

“I’m really sorry I spoiled your trip,” he muttered quietly and Dean reached out and grasped his arm.

“Aid, don’t. For the last time, you didn’t spoil anything. I had a blast,” he reassured the other man. Aidan took in a shaky breath and looked as though he might start to cry again, and Dean stifled the urge to do the same. He couldn’t resist tugging the brunet into a tight hug. He probably held on for several moments longer than was strictly friendly, but Aidan seemed in no rush to let go either. Dean breathed in deep, catching the ginger scent he’d grown so accustomed to over the past two weeks, before letting his friend go regretfully. The two took a few moments to settle their nerves, Aidan idly running his fingers through Sam’s fur, while Dean re-checked the items in his bag for the tenth time.

“This is turning into one of those awkward goodbyes,” Aidan whispered as he tucked a few curls behind one of his ears.

“Not goodbye Aidan,” Dean answered quickly.

“See ya later,” the blond corrected with a grin, and he tossed his friend a playful wink.

“Y-Yeah, see ya,” Aidan stuttered, his eyes wide and his lips shaky. For a moment Dean thought he might say something more but no words came, so the blond finally turned away and began his long walk back to Dalmally. He must have turned back and waved at least five times, only stopping when the other man was completely out of sight.

Dean huffed as he stepped into the thick of the forest path he meant to take. It was lush and beautiful, and every single thing he saw made him think of his friend. The leaves were the colour of Aidan’s sweaters, just beginning to change into an array of oranges, reds, and yellows. The bark was just like his eyes, a myriad of different browns and greens, and the pine needles on the forest floor smelled just like the cabin. He took a deep breath and noticed one scent in particular that was very absent. Ginger tea was definitely going to be his first purchase when he got back home.

It took him quite some time to trudge up the first part of the path, and he figured he must have been about halfway to town when he decided to stop and take a break, sitting atop a broken log. The woods around him were full of life, and yet eerily quiet at the same time, just like the rest of the area surrounding Loch Awe. The breeze was cool and made him shiver as it passed through his thin clothing easily. He watched the leaves rustle around on the branches and several of them broke away, fluttering along back down the path. Dean’s eyes followed them longingly.

He tapped his foot and took a sip of water, letting the refreshing liquid linger atop his tongue for a few seconds. He stretched out a bit, retied his shoelaces and even checked the zippers on his bag. Then he went back to sitting, even whistling a little as he crunched his water bottle between his hands.  

He was stalling. There was no need to sit and enjoy his surroundings. Despite his excuse for taking the path, he was still on a schedule. He had less than an hour before the bus left town and really couldn’t afford to stop and smell the flowers. If he missed his bus, he’d miss his flight. But every time Dean’s eyes strayed in the direction he was headed, he felt unsettled and anxious. He couldn’t get the image of Aidan’s eyes out of his mind. They seemed so desperate, so afraid, so unlike his normal self. Dean closed his eyes and rubbed at his brow as his mind worked in overdrive.  

He thought about Aidan, sitting curled up in a chair, reading a good book.

He thought about Aidan, yawning after just rising from a late afternoon nap.

He thought about Aidan, his hands shaky as he tried to open a bottle of pills.

He thought about Aidan, hunched over the toilet, sobbing as he vomited brutally into the bowl.

Dean whipped open his bag and searched around for his phone, fumbling the device in his hands when he finally found it. He touched the screen and rejoiced at the sight of a signal. Two whole bars! Without a single thought on the cost of the call he speed dialled his agent, standing and pacing as it rang a few times with no answer. Finally his agent’s nasal voice sounded through the speaker.

“Hey Holly,” Dean greeted, as he adjusted the volume to a more suitable level.

“Dean! Was hoping I’d hear from you today. Have a good holiday?” She asked quickly, her words slurred together as though she was in a great hurry. She probably was.

“Yes, fantastic,” He answered, and opened his mouth to elaborate, but got little chance to do so.

“Great, look, lots of opportunities scheduled in the upcoming week. You’ve got three auditions, I’ve emailed you the scripts, read them over before Monday,” Holly ordered, and Dean rolled his eyes and shoved a hand into his pocket.

“Actually, I’ll have to reschedule,” he managed to speak up and Holly continued talking for a bit before she even registered his words.

“What? What do you mean reschedule?” she finally grasped, her voice already growing louder and squeakier.

“I’ll need another week, maybe two,” Dean explained calmly, even as he kicked at the leaves pooled beneath his feet fretfully.

“What?!” Holly screeched, and Dean pulled his cell away from his ear in surprise. He adjusted the volume further as his agent continued to yell at him through the device.

“Dean, you can’t put off these auditions! They’ll pass you by! Do you really want to jeopardize your future in the industry for an extended vacation?” she hissed angrily, and Dean frowned in annoyance

“This is more important,” he insisted.

“Dean! These are big roles! Nothing is more important than your career right now!” Holly chastised him, and Dean sighed heavily and mimicked strangling the air in front of him.

“Look, just two more weeks okay, then I swear I’ll be back,” he promised, though to be honest, his future career as a movie star was the last thing on his mind.

“Damn it Dean,” Holly spat in frustration. He could hear her shuffling things around on her desk and typing quickly on her keyboard. She muttered a few choice insults and gulped down what Dean figured was black coffee before slamming her mug loudly on her desk.

“Fine, but you put this off much longer and there’s not much I’ll be able to do for you,” she warned him, her voice icy.

“Got it, see ya,” Dean said, though Holly had long since disconnected the call. He stared at his phone for a moment or two before lowering his arm to his side.

It was like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. Dean laughed lightly and spun around when he realised exactly what he’d just done. He hoisted his bag across his shoulders before practically skipping back the way he came. The path was far more enjoyable on his return trip. The cool breeze didn’t feel so cool anymore, in fact it was more refreshing than anything else, and every sound stood out in his ears, from the crunching of leaves beneath his feet, to the chirping of birds in the treetops. He couldn’t keep the giddy grin off his face and his mind was occupied with imagining Aidan’s reaction when he showed up yet again on his doorstep, and within the same day as leaving no less.

It felt like it took no time at all to reach the tiny dirt road that lead up to Aidan’s cottage. He could see the wooden structure through the trees as he approached, and he picked up his pace until he reached the tiny path on his right. The sight that met him stopped him in his tracks.

Aidan was still outside, and he was seated on the wooden steps as though he’d not moved from that very location the entire time Dean was gone. The other man’s head was lowered and he still had one hand clenched in Sam’s fur. The dog was staring at the brunet calmly and when Dean stepped closer Sam turned and wagged his tail at the sight of him but remained seated beside the other man. Aidan didn’t seem to notice him, and remained still, and slouched over. Dean approached, doing little to cover the noise of his footfalls, and he even dropped his bag heavily on the ground, wincing as he remembered his camera was somewhere inside. Still Aidan remained unresponsive, and Dean frowned as he stepped closer.

“Guess who’s staying for another two weeks, if you’ll have me that is,” Dean spoke up with a widespread grin upon his face. He waited for several moments and grew increasingly worried the longer his friend remained silent.

“Aidan?” Dean pressed, and he bent down and peered up at the brunet’s face. Aidan’s eyes were completely glazed over, directed towards nothing in particular. He’d seen similar faraway looks in his time spent with the other man on more than one occasion, but this time, even when Dean waved a hand in front of him, Aidan still didn’t notice. Dean swallowed nervously and lifted a hand, pushing some of the dark curls away from his friend’s face.

“Aid? What are you still doing out here? You’ll catch a fever,” Dean whispered and he almost pulled away when the brunet’s body jolted as he woke from his daydream. Aidan’s eyes flicked towards the blond suddenly, but the reaction was not what the Kiwi expected. Dean had hoped the other man might be happy or even surprised, but all he saw in those brown eyes was confusion. The blond wasn’t sure what to do or say, so he just waited, watching as Aidan seemed to struggle with something internally. The other man frowned and grimaced, his eyes looking over Dean’s features frantically. And suddenly they widened, and there was a quick intake of air.

“Dean?” Aidan whispered, almost as though he was afraid he was wrong and that the man kneeling before him was a figment of his imagination. Dean was pretty sure his face was an expression of anxious worry as he nodded in response.

“But, y-you left,” Aidan stuttered, his eyes getting moist to the point that tears started to leak from them and roll down his face. He reached out and pressed his hands to Dean’s front, splaying his fingers gently against him to make sure he was real. Dean nearly choked.  

“Aid, it’s alright, I’m here okay? I’m not going anywhere,” He assured his friend, and Aidan’s breath hitched and his shoulders began to shake with full on sobs. It was worse even than the night prior, and Dean was suddenly overcome with emotion. Whatever was going on clearly went far deeper than he could possibly have imagined. Aidan didn’t look well, not at all. His skin was white as a sheet, his eyes sunken in more than Dean cared to admit, and his body trembled no matter what the temperature. He got emotional over often silly things, and was clearly in a good deal of pain, if the medicines in his cabinet were anything to go by.   Dean chastised himself. How had he ever thought that leaving was an option?

He enfolded the other man in between his arms and held the brunet’s face tight to his chest, letting Aidan’s tears get soaked up by the fabric of his flannel shirt. Dean sighed as he inhaled the familiar ginger scent, and he closed his eyes, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Aidan’s curls. He desperately wished Aidan would just tell him what the hell was going on. It hurt, to see him suffer, unable to do anything but stand by and watch. His heart ached, a deep throbbing pain that shook him to the core, and Dean knew he felt more for his friend than he probably should have.  

It was the little things, like the way Aidan smiled when he was happy, or how his eyes lit up when he ate a delicious meal. Dean liked how he nibbled at his lip when he was really focused on something, and how he toyed with his ear and hair when he was feeling nervous or shy. He liked the way he smelled, the way he laughed, the way he chewed on the end of his pencil as he did the crossword puzzle in the paper. Dean could have spent eternity with Aidan and not grown tired of him, and more than anything he just wanted him to be…okay. Dean’s fingers inched up Aidan’s body and found their way to the back of his neck, grazing through the tiny hairs there and settling against his skin.  

“God, you’re cold,” Dean gasped, and he lifted the blanket to cover the exposed area beneath Aidan’s hairline. It seemed that for once his trembling was actually partially due to temperature.

“Let’s get you inside,” Dean stated as he helped lift the other man to a standing position. They walked carefully back inside the cottage, Dean hoisting his bag awkwardly on one shoulder as he kept Aidan upright on the other. It was difficult to manoeuvre but eventually Dean managed to get his friend into bed, more or less. Aidan collapsed on top of his mattress and reached his hands up to cover his face as he tried and failed to calm down while the blond studied him from the side. Dean lifted one of his friend’s hands away and peered at the other man’s blotchy face with a frown.

“I know something’s…going on,” He whispered, squeezing Aidan’s hand tightly within his own as he sat down beside him.

“I’d have to be blind not to know,” Dean admitted, and Aidan’s breath hitched and he rolled onto his side towards the blond and squeezed back.

“I’m sorry, I…I c-can’t,” Aidan stuttered, his voice still ragged from the damage done to his throat. Dean shoved him backwards on the mattress and lay down next to him. He kicked off his shoes and reached out his free hand to grip the back of his friend’s head.

“It’s okay, I understand,” Dean whispered, staring into Aidan’s glassy brown eyes. The brunet’s eyelashes were clumped together and the whites of his eyes were bloodshot as he studied the Kiwi worriedly.

“When you’re ready you can tell me,” Dean said, running his thumb across the other man’s cheekbone repeatedly. Aidan blinked rapidly and let a few more tears fall before closing his eyes as Dean continued the motion.

“Thank you,” he whispered, repeating the words several times, and Dean paused for a moment as the other man squirmed even closer on the bed, so that their noses were nearly touching. He could feel Aidan’s warm shaky breaths against his chin and shivered as the other man’s legs intermingled with his own. He fought the urge to do something inappropriate, no matter how desperately he wanted to pull Aidan close and kiss him for all he was worth. It really wasn’t the time; it might never be the time. But as he watched Aidan’s breathing even out and the remains of tears dry on his face, he couldn’t resist pressing a chaste peck to the tip of the other man’s nose. Dean scrunched his eyes closed and tried to relax enough to sleep, but he always ended up taking another glance at Aidan’s sleeping face. Just to make sure, just in case.

His kisses increased in number, trailing over the brunet’s eyebrows and temples, but he kept the contact gentle, so as not to disturb his friend’s rest. Dean’s agent was wrong. Nothing in the universe was more important than spending time with Aidan, and more than likely, nothing ever would be. He’d fallen hard.

* * *

Dean eased back into life with Aidan quickly. They didn’t talk about the brunet’s emotional breakdown, or the medicine hidden in his cabinet. Instead Dean did his absolute best to keep his friend’s mind off of anything of the sort. They went for walks whenever possible, as Aidan seemed soothed when he was surrounded by nature, even if the exercise tended to wear him out. When Aidan was tired, they stayed in and did little more than joke and relax, enjoying each other’s company more than watching a movie. They ate comfort food, and Dean did most of the cooking, though he often caved and let Aidan help at the sight of his puppy eyed pout. Whenever Aidan began to shake or get flustered, all it took were some whispered words and a gentle touch to the brunet’s hand, and he would calm down and let Dean take over. All in all, Dean managed to keep Aidan busy and smiling, which was precisely what he meant to do.

It was just a few days later when Dean remembered they still had yet to go fishing out on the loch, and so he woke early one morning and dug the fishing rods out of the tiny shed nearby, then dragged a bleary-eyed Aidan down to the dock. Trying to get into the boat took some effort, as both of them were fairly uncoordinated at such an early time of the day. The two men fumbled with the sides of the boat, their lifejackets flopping about their shoulders and getting caught on fishing line. Dean slipped slightly and one of his legs flew down into the frigid water beside them. He screamed in a decidedly girlish manner while Aidan burst out into laughter and collapsed in the boat as his friend struggled to get back in.

“Oi, shut it!” Dean muttered as he grimaced and towelled off his leg. His shoe was soaked right through, and he ended up taking it and his sock off, leaving one foot bare.

“Pfft, did you hear yourself?!” Aidan chuckled and his grin lit up his face. He looked more animated than he had in a while, and Dean found a smile inching its way on his face despite his discomfort.   The blond flushed slightly as his friend continued to laugh and make fun of him, while he set up the fishing rods and untangled wire. Aidan wiped tears from his eyes as Dean pulled out a can with an ancient looking label glued across the top.

“You got worms?” Aidan asked in surprise, flicking the can where it sat between them.

“They were in the back of your freezer,” Dean commented as he tied on some hooks and reached for the can. He screwed off the lid and the two looked down at the contents in disgust. Inside there were certainly worms, many of them, all frozen together in a single dead mass.

“Aren’t they supposed to be alive for fishing?” Aidan questioned, looking more than a little put off by the sight. Dean scrunched up his brow and recoiled slightly as the smell of them began to emanate from the can.

“I don’t know, I’ve never done this before,” he admitted, hesitantly pressing a finger against the top of them. Nothing budged.

“They look pretty dead,” Aidan mentioned and the two shared a look. Dean shrugged and picked up the can, flipping it over and shaking it a bit, and the entire pile fell into the boat in one giant chunk. Both men immediately recoiled, grimacing at the rolling wormcicle, before Dean hurried to put them back in the can, rinsing his fingers off in the cold water over the boat.

“I don’t think…I don’t think you’re supposed to freeze them,” Aidan whispered, and he couldn’t help snickering a bit at the expression on his friend’s face.

“Well, it’s the best we’ve got, unless you want to hang your toes over the edge enticingly,” Dean taunted, smirking as Aidan held up his hands in a hurry.

“And risk the ice water? Yeah right!” he shouted quickly. Dean began to chip away at the mass of worms with a pocketknife, and eventually he pulled out some mutilated chunks and worked them onto hooks. He handed Aidan one of the fishing rods with glee and the brunet made a face at the glorified ice cube hanging from the end of it.

“Hey, compared to the water, that’s not all that bad really,” Dean spoke, and he began practicing his cast, doing his best to avoid catching his own clothes or Aidan’s in an effort to avoid more embarrassment. Finally the two managed to get things figured out, and the worms steadily became easier to pick out of the container. They may not have been live bait, but it still worked well enough, and both of them had a few nibbles throughout the morning. Dean had the first real catch of the day, an average sized trout that he tossed into their meagre bucket for supper. They got more than enough for dinner and eventually just started throwing the rest back. It was approaching lunch time when Aidan felt a particularly strong tug on his line, and he perked up and nudged Dean with his elbow.

“Hey, this is a big one,” Aidan murmured, and he gasped as the rod jerked in his palms and he nearly let go. Dean reacted in a flash, grabbing hold of the fishing rod as he helped to hold it back. The two of them struggled against the strength of the fish and both of them fell back in surprise when it swam towards them and jumped into the boat instead of trying to get away. A splash of water came up with it, along with a trail of seaweed, and the fish landed with a thwak on top of Aidan and flopped around wildly.

“Gaaah!” Aidan screeched, falling back in surprise as he grappled against the weight atop him, and Dean held up his arms to avoid the thrashing of its tail.

“Argh, get it out! Get it off me!” Aidan shouted, and Dean wacked it with his life jacket, pushing it towards the edge of the boat. Its huge eyes stared him down and he began shouting loudly, offering up a few choice curses as he hurled the thing over the edge of the boat, slipping on the floorboards and collapsing atop his friend. Dean shook the water from his hair and looked down at the brunet as he calmed down.   Aidan was still catching his breath, his clothes were drenched with water, and his head was covered in a clump of slimy seaweed. He looked like a wet dog, and Dean snickered and reached out a hand, pushing some of the seaweed aside so he could look into the other man’s eyes. His gaze lingered on the droplets of water that trailed across Aidan’s skin, and he let his fingers graze against the brunet’s cheek bones.

“Quite the catch,” Dean whispered and Aidan flushed and bit his lip. The blond’s eyes followed the action, and Dean was overcome with the urge to kiss him again. He felt his body inching closer and his eyes drifting shut, but he pulled away and sat up in a hurry as he realized what he was about to do. Dean scratched the side of his head awkwardly and tried not to look as flustered as he felt, even as he reached out a hand to help Aidan up.

That night the two men shared the fish they caught over a campfire. They piled blankets over their bodies and held out the prepped food on sticks, watching it blacken gradually over the heat. Dean’s eyes met with Aidan’s gaze as he took his first bite, and through the flames of the fire he was sure he saw a faint flush upon his friend’s skin as his eyes flicked off to the side and back again. Aidan ducked his head and smiled, nibbling on his lip just like earlier in the day, and Dean was grinning like a madman as he swallowed the last bite of his fish. The flames danced between them magically as the sun fell ever lower in the sky, leaving them illuminated by no more than a soft golden glow.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, there's some profanity in this chapter. But it felt necessary...and I don't know, real.

Dean couldn’t say for sure how he had ended up in his current position, but there was no doubting that it was very real, and not a figment of his imagination at all. He was definitely waist deep in water that had no business ever touching his body. It was crisp. No, crisp was too kind of a word. It was frigid, icy, absolutely revolting. It was damn cold.

The blond held his arms around his chest in a sad attempt at keeping his upper body warm, but it had little effect on the rest of him, and any time a single drop of water landed on his bare skin he flinched and held back the high pitched noises his vocal chords threatened to produce. His legs were mercifully losing feeling and he tiptoed awkwardly across the rocks beneath his feet, trying to keep his balance lest he fall and completely drench the rest of his body.

“Whose crazy idea was this?” Dean hissed through chattering teeth, and Aidan peered at him through half closed eyelids. The brunet looked just as pained, hunched over with his elbows held just above the water line. His eyebrows knitted together as he squinted and breathed in and out quickly, gooseflesh a predominant feature on his arms and chest.

“I am not taking full responsibility,” Aidan muttered, as he glared at the other man light-heartedly.

“It was definitely a joint effort. No, in fact, I blame you entirely,” Aidan stated, and he flinched and jumped slightly as a ripple in the water caught some previously untouched skin.

“Bullshit!” Dean shouted, his eyes flashing as he took in the other man’s similar plight. Aidan grinned in his direction and hopped over a couple of waves until he was at Dean’s side, and then he unlatched his arms from his own body and threw them around the blond’s torso instead.

“Gah! Don’t do that! You’re fingers are cold as all hell!” Dean screeched as the other man ran his hands across his sides and lower back.

“Cold as hell? I would think that might actually be quite warm,” Aidan teased, and he laughed slightly and trailed his wet fingers up the other man’s spine.

“Geeeegh, jesus, Aid. You’re killing me here!” Dean screeched desperately, and he arched his back at an awkward angle to try and get away from the cool touch. Their chests brushed together and Dean eyed the other man’s face as they held on to each other for warmth. Aidan lowered his eyes and his lips morphed into a wide grin, even as air puffed out in clouds from between his lips. It wasn’t the smile, however, that worried Dean.   It was the look in Aidan’s eyes as he raised them with a tiny snicker. Dean had seen it before, many times, always before the brunet was about to enact some sort of crazy scheme.

“Aidan don’t you dare!” Dean scolded, and he slowly tried to inch away, but Aidan wouldn’t allow it, and the other man grabbed him by the top of his head and dunked him beneath the water. Dean latched onto the only thing he could reach under such short notice, Aidan’s curly hair, and the taller man was tugged down beneath the water right along with him. Dean’s brain went into overdrive as the shocking temperature surrounded his form and began inching through what felt like every bone in his body. He froze for a moment, his limbs seizing, and shamelessly let out a scream beneath the surface of the water. Bubbles flew from his mouth and then he was flapping and struggling to get his body upright. Dean spluttered as he reached the surface, taking in deep gasps of air as he held his arms out to his sides in horror. Aidan surfaced not long after, a slew of various noises escaping from his mouth.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! That’s cold!” Aidan cried, and he shook his arms about and rubbed the water from his eyes before jumping up and down frantically. He looked completely drenched.

“No shit it’s cold, you damn idiot!” Dean spat, as he wrung out his hair. His eyes crinkled with mirth when his friend glanced at him apologetically. Dean hobbled towards the brunet, still trying to keep as much skin from contacting the water. He chuckled lightly but frowned just slightly when he noticed the way Aidan’s brow was creased a bit in pain. Dean wrapped an arm around his friend’s trembling body and tugged him to his side, beginning to lead him back towards the shoreline.

“Okay, okay, let’s get the hell out of here,” Dean muttered, and Aidan made a small sound of agreement. He was shivering pretty fiercely, and his skin was tinged an unhealthy pink. The two hobbled towards the sand, grimacing each time their feet caught on some sharp rocks. They teetered to and fro several times, nearly falling back into the water, but Dean managed to keep them upright.

“Look, even S-Sam was s-smart enough to stay out,” Aidan stuttered as the two reached the shoreline and hurriedly stepped out of the loch. The dog was standing several metres away from them, his tail wagging back and forward in excitement as the two men approached.

“Coward!” Dean muttered in the dog’s direction with a sardonic smile, and Sam trotted over and licked some stray droplets from his fingers. He inched around behind the two men before making his way up to the cottage, expecting them to follow, and Dean grimaced as he felt several stray hairs stick to the back of his legs. The two danced up the hillside towards the cabin, regretting that they’d left their towels inside. Dean hurried ahead, his feet padding against the hardwood and leaving wet trails in his wake, and he grabbed two towels, quickly tossing one towards Aidan. The brunet wiped his body down with shaking fingers and Dean ushered him further inside, sitting him down on one of the kitchen stools. The blond pulled the flannel blanket from the sofa and wrapped it around his friend, rubbing some warmth into his arms and hands. Aidan’s fingers felt colder than his and he massaged them a bit until they stopped quaking quite so much.

“So that was a stupid idea, all around,” Dean mentioned, trying to keep the worry from his voice at Aidan’s appearance. His shoulders were still trembling beneath the blanket and water droplets trailed down his face from several sopping curly strands of hair.

“You’re the one that said you wanted to go swimming in the loch,” Aidan accused playfully. His eyelids were drooping with fatigue, but he still seemed in good spirits.

“Yeah well, this was really not what I had in mind. There are parts of my body I may never regain feeling in,” Dean admitted, and Aidan let out a hearty laugh.

“You didn’t need your toes anyway, right?” the brunet commented, and he shifted his feet forwards on the ground so that they rest atop the other man’s. Dean looked down towards them and wiggled his toes best he could. Each one responded in kind.

“Truth be told, it’s not my toes I’m worried about,” Dean muttered, and Aidan’s cheeks flushed and his gaze veered off to the side as he chuckled lowly. His eyelashes seemed so dark against his skin, and Dean observed the water that clung to them, watching as one bead fell free and rolled down the brunet’s stark face. He was so close that every freckle was noticeable as his eyes traced the path of the droplet. Dean absently rubbed some warmth into Aidan’s upper arms as his gaze settled on the other man’s dark lips. The water moved down the ridges upon them, settling in between the two, and Aidan’s tongue crept out and lapped the droplet up, leaving a moist trail in its wake.

“Your lips are blue,” Dean commented, his gaze glued to the sight. Aidan’s eyes rose to meet his and the blond suddenly became hyper aware of everything. Every movement of Aidan’s body, every tremble and shake, the colour of his eyes, the tiny hairs that melded together to make up his brows. The small creases in those lips that seemed like guidelines to somewhere inside. And then his lips parted, just enough that Dean was able to see the ridges of his teeth. The blond’s fingers tightened slightly and he narrowed his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

Dean swallowed as his chest tightened, and before he was able to think on it, he’d leant forward and shut his eyes completely, letting instinct close the remaining distance between them. Aidan’s lashes fluttered against his face as they kissed, and Dean felt the skin of his cheeks heat up as his nerve endings went absolutely wild. The other man’s nose was cold against his skin, but his lips were much warmer than expected. Dean could feel them shaking slightly as he ran his tongue across them, and then he was sucking Aidan’s lower lip in between his own. It fell free with a wet sound and Dean went back for more. His eyes opened when the brunet let out a tiny sound of satisfaction, and Dean gazed blearily at the other man’s otherworldly expression. Dean pulled away again, letting Aidan’s lips go with a wet noise, and the brunet released a gasp of air but kept his eyelids squeezed tightly closed. At some point during the kiss Aidan had reached forwards, and his hands were curled against Dean’s chest as though he was trying to grip on to something steady.

The two men remained silent, breathing heavily in and out. Dean was tempted to lean in again, but before he could, Aidan’s brow slowly began to knit together, and his shoulders started shaking even more than before. It took a moment for Dean to realize his friend was crying, but when Aidan’s nostrils flared slightly and he grimaced as tears rolled down his face it became glaringly obvious. Dean’s eyes widened and he loosened his grip on Aidan’s arms, moving his fingers to the other man’s face.

“Shit, Aidan…I’m sorry, did I read the signs wrong?” he hastily asked, wiping his thumbs across the brunet’s skin, just catching the tears in the ridges beneath his nails.

“Did I…mess us up?” Dean fretted, and Aidan let out a quick gasp of air. It sounded almost like a laugh, and Dean frowned slightly in confusion. The brunet tilted his head, and his lips rose and morphed into the most pained smile Dean had ever seen in his life.

“No…no, that’s not it,” Aidan whispered. His eyes opened gradually, and they flickered across the other man’s face sorrowfully.

“It was perfect…,” the brunet admitted, and he sniffled slightly and lowered his gaze.

“You’re…so amazing, Dean,” Aidan said with a tiny shake of his head. Dean didn’t know what to think, though he felt his skin tinge slightly at the compliment. He’d never made a single person cry when he kissed them before, except perhaps the little redheaded girl in his second grade class. But she had run away shouting vile accusations about his germ levels, so the message had been very clear at the time that he was not to kiss her again. But Aidan, he seemed…happy, and yet so very upset at the same time.

“It’s just…i-it’s not fair to you,” Aidan said woefully, and he sucked his lower lip in and directed his gaze off towards the side. Dean slid his fingers down the other man’s neck, resting his hands softly just at his shoulders. He could feel the rapid pulse in the brunet’s neck, and was growing increasingly more worried as each second passed.

“I…,” Aidan started, but his voice hitched as he let out a sob. The brunet closed his eyes tight, working diligently to compose himself, while Dean did his best to wait for the other man to speak. All at once Aidan opened his eyes and took a deep breath, turning to look the blond head on.

“I’m dying, Dean,” Aidan deadpanned, and though his lips were trembling, and his eyes blinking rapidly, his voice was steady and sure.

“What?” Dean breathed, his voice no more than a gasp of air. There was little reaction in the brunet’s expression, but his fists tightened in his lap.

“I’m dying,” Aidan repeated, and Dean did little more than stand and stare with his mouth slightly agape.

“I’ve got…cancer. Brain cancer, stage four,” Aidan further explained. Dean felt like he had been electrocuted. No, like his body had transformed into a solid block of ice. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. His chest was uncomfortably tight and the muscles in his arms and legs seized. Dean couldn’t hear, he couldn’t see, all he was aware of was one single word. That awful, terrifying word.

Cancer.

And it went on like that, Dean staring at Aidan, Aidan staring at Dean, and Dean’s mind churning out that word, _cancer_ , over and over and over again, until it became impossible to forget, impossible to pretend it had been another word altogether. Any other word.

“Dean?” Aidan finally spoke, but still the other man remained impassive, his eyes glazed over slightly as he stared at the brunet listlessly.

“Dean, please, say something,” Aidan implored the other man, and the touch of cool fingers to his face startled Dean from his petrified state.

“Cancer,” he said, the only word his mouth seemed able to form, and Aidan nodded a few times and took a shaky breath.

“It’s terminal,” the brunet replied, and Dean narrowed his eyes as he finally began to connect thoughts and words in his mind. How dare he? How dare Aidan say that like it was just some run of the mill fact? Like terminal didn’t mean what it really meant. Like it didn’t mean…

“What the fuck,” Dean muttered under his breath, and Aidan’s eyes flashed in fear. Dean’s fingers tightened hard atop the brunet’s shoulders as his emotions crashed down around him. He was pissed. More filled with rage than ever before.

“What the fuck?!” Dean shouted at the top of his lungs, and he tore his hands away from Aidan’s shoulders and slammed them so hard into the countertop behind the other man, the wood cracked and the noise reverberated through the entire cabin. Aidan flinched at the action and squeezed his eyes shut when a vase fell to the ground and shattered, and Dean hovered over him, nearly huffing as his eyes seared with emotion. Even Sam seemed spooked, standing at an uneasy distance, but at attention, in case he should need to step in and protect the brunet.

“Tell me this is a joke,” Dean ordered, his chest still heaving violently, but all Aidan did was blink rapidly and shake his head, fresh tears falling down his cheeks despite his attempts at holding them in.

“Oh my god,” Dean gasped, and his fingers scratched against the counter before he pushed himself away. His shoulders were tense, and he was holding his breath, waiting, for something, anything, for everything to suddenly make sense. He was filled with rage, and wanted to lash out, to hit something, to take his anger out on something. Part of him feared he might, and as he glanced towards the petrified brunet just a few paces away, he knew, he needed to get away. Dean steepled his hands in front of his face and breathed out slowly, allowing what felt like poison to escape from his lungs.

“I need…I need some air,” he choked, and then turned tail, nearly breaking the front door off its hinges as he rushed to escape.

* * *

Dean charged down the slight hill towards the shoreline, not caring that his feet were bare and that the sand was quite cool beneath them. The blond’s chest was still a little wet, and it felt like tiny ice pellets were crashing into him as the wind hit his skin. Dean ran hard down the small beach, until he was nearly out of breath, and then he came to a pause, gasping for air, his hands resting on his thighs. It didn’t take long for him to remember just how upset he was and he yelled out, his voice gravelly and pained as it echoed around the loch. His lungs felt like they were bleeding from the inside out, and his throat ached as he growled and yelled out again and again. Had there been many renters nearby, they surely would have thought him mad. And they would not have been wrong.

He was mad with rage. He was angry at everything. He was angry at Aidan for not telling him about his illness sooner. He was angry at the world for cursing his friend with…with cancer. But most of all, he was angry at himself, for not noticing what it was, for not connecting the dots, or researching the medicines. There were so many signs! He should have known! He should have …

Dean fell to the ground, his breath catching in his throat as he began to sob fiercely. His knee caught on a rock and he cried out and collapsed completely, sand sticking to his body in clumps. He felt limp, boneless, and the loch was a blurry mass of murky colours as he gazed miserably out towards the water. Tears trailed down his face as Dean cried, his shoulders shaking over the ground, and his fingers clenched repeatedly in the sand but found nothing to take hold of, the grains continually slipping through his fingers. He could see the tiny dark circles forming as droplets fell to the sand, and Dean blinked his eyes rapidly and tried to stop the tears from continuously coming. His face burned, and he gritted his teeth against the pain behind his eyes. It had been years since he’d cried so desperately, and never had sorrow taken such complete control over his body. He gasped when something wet and cold nudged against his shoulder and Dean turned his head in surprise, taking in the Irish Wolfhound at his side.

“Sam, what the hell are you doing following me?” Dean spat, his brow lowering as he frowned at the dog. Sam nudged him again, then lowered his head and pushed it beneath his arm, forcing the blond to lift it over the furry body. Dean sighed and turned at the action, grabbing the dog loosely around his jaw as he stared into his eyes.

“You should be back there with Aidan, he needs you boy,” Dean muttered, finally slumping against the dog. Dean closed his eyes and leant his head against Sam’s solid body. The fur was soft and much warmer than the air, and he could feel the dog’s rapid breathing beneath his cheek.

_Cancer._

There was that word again. Dean shuddered at the knowledge that he might never have seen the other man again at all had he just gone back to New Zealand like he originally planned. He couldn’t believe he almost left Aidan alone, to deal with this all, alone. Dean settled for a moment on that thought and then his eyes opened suddenly as he took in a strangled gasp of air. The blond sat up and looked at Sam again in realization, his eyes wide and regretful. The dog eyed him for a moment and then turned, looking back in the direction of the cabin.

“He…he needs me,” Dean stuttered, and then he shook his head and wiped down his legs quickly, ignoring the streak of blood that came from his knee.

“Shit, what the hell am I doing?” Dean gasped as he stood up and hobbled a bit to gain his balance. He _had_ left Aidan alone. And probably when the other man needed him most. Hadn’t he just confided in him his biggest secret? What on Earth was Dean doing moaning and groaning in the sand when it was his best friend, no, the man he loved, that was the one really suffering? The one that was going to…die.

Dean ran a shaky hand through his hair and took a few steps back towards the cabin. He didn’t even feel the cold beneath his feet anymore. Still he began moving faster, until he was full on running once again, bleeding lungs or no, and in no time at all Dean was back at the cottage and striding through the still open door.

“Aidan!” Dean shouted, the moment he stepped through the entryway, and he skidded just a bit further towards the tiny kitchen.

“Aidan! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have-,” Dean faltered, his eyes finally catching sight of the brunet. Aidan wasn’t sitting the way he left him at all, but was collapsed awkwardly on the ground, his upper body propped strangely against the island. His hands were shaking, and blood was dripping from one of them steadily. He seemed disoriented and in shock.

“Oh Aidan, what happened?” Dean gasped in surprise, and he was falling to his knees again, but this time at the other man’s side.

“You’re bleeding,” Dean voiced, as he lifted the brunet’s hand into his own, pressing hard against the wound, and then he caught sight of the broken pieces of the vase scattered across the ground. There was a bit of a gash down the other man’s shin as well, but it looked far less severe. Aidan stared at the blood on his skin oddly, and glanced towards Dean with lost eyes.

“I’m so sorry Aid,” Dean apologized, and he ran a hand across his friend’s brow in concern. It was damp with sweat and warm to the touch.

“I shouldn’t have left you here alone, I’m so sorry,” Dean continued, and he grappled for a wet rag atop the island and began dabbing at the other man’s wounds carefully. Aidan watched him warily, his eyes still wide and slightly unfocused.

“It’s alright, okay? Let’s get you cleaned up,” Dean said with a shaky smile. Aidan looked around them slowly, taking in his surroundings, and then his gaze settled back on his bloody hand.

“I…I don’t know what…I,” Aidan whispered, and he leaned forward with a groan, reaching up to touch the back of his head.

“Shh, it’s okay. We should get you to town, to the hospital,” Dean suggested, and Aidan flinched and weakly tried to push him away.

“No, please!” Aidan begged, his eyes clearing slightly as he became more aware.

“Dean, no hospitals, please,” the brunet insisted again and he started fighting the other man off desperately, pulling his hand away and struggling to stand.

“T-they…can’t do anything for me,” Aidan slurred, and he stumbled a bit and groaned loudly as his hand brushed against the ground. Dean hurried to hold him in place to stop him from hurting himself further and he positioned his palm against the other man’s chest gently.

“Aid, okay, it’s okay, I get it, no hospitals, just relax. Just relax,” the blond soothed, and Aidan settled back against the solid wood of the island. Dean studied him intently for a minute then set about finishing his primitive first aid. The leg was easy to patch up, but the hand was much more worrisome. He eventually found an old travel first aid kit, hidden behind the dreaded mirror in the bathroom, but Dean paid the medications there no mind, focusing on the task at hand. He glanced briefly at the tiny needle wrapped in foil before tossing it aside and pulling out the steri-tape bandages instead. There was no way Dean was going to delve into the world of medical stitches when his hands were shaking as badly as they were.   He stemmed the bleeding best he could and patched it with the bandages, feeling satisfied when they seemed to hold the cut in place. It wasn’t the best care, but it would work.

Dean checked the brunet’s eyes quickly, making sure there weren’t any signs of a concussion, before he let the other man’s lids drift shut, pressing tender kisses atop each one.   It was surprisingly easy to lift Aidan’s body in his arms, considering their differences in height, and Dean got him comfortably tucked into bed before sitting down beside him in exhaustion. He let his hands roam through his friend’s dark curly locks, and Dean’s brow furrowed as he looked over the other man’s sleeping face. He seemed perfectly healthy, if one looked past the pallor of his skin, and the circles beneath his eyes, and how thin he was, and everything else the blond knew of course. Dean sighed loudly. Aidan didn’t look healthy at all.

Dean raised a hand to his chin and rubbed at his growing facial hair mechanically. He knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night, despite how drained he was emotionally, and he felt his eyes welling up again as one word remained vivid at the forefront of his mind.

Cancer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the hardest chapter to write thus far, and also perhaps the one several people have been waiting for...or alternatively dreading. I hope it came across the way I intended. I kind of wish ff.net still had an RPF section so I could post this there too, even though I hate that site with a fiery passion. Anyway, more to come soon! And please don't hate me too much.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait everyone. I'm so far behind on responding to comments on all of my stories, but I promise I've read them all.

Dean didn’t think twice about making the next call to his agent.  The following evening he was up and outside, already hobbling around in search of a signal.  He ended up standing on top of a chair, teetering precariously on the grassy slope next to the cottage as he dialled Holly’s number.  His heart beat loudly in his chest as he held his breath, listening to the phone ringing in his ear.  The night time air felt cool on his skin, and Dean shivered as gooseflesh appeared along his arms.  His fingers gripped the back of the chair tightly as he heard the line kick to life suddenly on the other end.

“This had better be good Dean, I’m on the bus and I haven’t had my coffee yet today,” Holly’s gravelly voice greeted him, and Dean grimaced as he struggled to come up with something to say.  His agent was moody at the best of times, but catching her in the morning before coffee was probably the worst thing he could have done.  He always forgot about the differences in time zones.

“Dean…I’m waiting,” Holly pressed, and he made a little noise of aggravation as he lost his balance for a few moments.

“Remember how I said I needed more time?” Dean asked, and he heard her click her tongue in irritation. 

“Yes, it’s nearly been a week already.  I’m assuming this means you need that second week?” she trailed off, and Dean readjusted the phone against his ear as the signal kicked in and out a few times.

“I figured as much, I’ve already rescheduled everything for the next seven days,” was muttered not long after, and the sound of the bus screeching to a stop through the line made Dean squint his eyes as he pulled away from his phone slightly.

“Actually…,” Dean began, trailing off as he looked out over the loch with wandering eyes.

“What?” Holly grunted, her voice dangerously low and threatening.  Dean swallowed and looked up at the darkening sky.  All he could think about was Aidan’s…condition, but there was no way he could have a heart to heart about it with his agent over the phone.  She wouldn’t care, she didn’t know Aidan, and Dean wasn’t really ready to talk about it anyway.  Not to mention, it wasn’t his secret to tell.  Aidan was likely hidden away because he didn’t want that information to get out.

“Dean, what?” she snapped loudly, and Dean flinched and took a deep breath.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back.  In fact, it’s probably best you just scrap anything you’ve got lined up for me indefinitely,” he finally spoke, feeling a heavy weight lift from his shoulders.  Thinking about staying in Loch Awe permanently was one thing, but finally putting it into words, confirming his choice, was very liberating.  There was a long pause, during which Dean was left waiting, unsure whether or not his connection gave out in the midst of his talking, but soon enough he heard the heavy breathing on the other end of the line. 

“What!?” Holly shouted into the phone, and Dean cringed and pulled away from his cell at the sudden volume increase.

“Dean, you have to be joking!” she cried out, and Dean cautiously readjusted the phone beside his ear.

“No, I’m not, I can’t come back,” he repeated seriously, and the bus screeched again in the background.  Dean could picture Holly, teeming with anger, and more than likely scaring the crap out of any nearby passengers.  He definitely could have timed the call better, a lot better, but he figured the sooner he let his agent know the better.  He couldn’t keep leaving her hanging, and it really wasn’t fair of him to expect her to make arrangements for him only to tell her time and time again that he couldn’t make it to the appointments.

“This business is harsh, you’ll never come back if you take a break at a time like this.  You aren’t young Dean!” his agent hissed into the phone and Dean closed his eyes and sighed.  He was well aware of the likelihood that his decision might ruin any future opportunities he had in acting.  But it really wasn’t a choice for him. 

“Look, this is way more impor-,” he started, feeling incredibly frustrated, but then Holly cut him off almost instantly. 

“You’re just going to throw all of that hard work away?  This is your career!” she insisted, and Dean gritted his teeth and gripped his cell tightly.  He felt anger suddenly pulsing through his form, and in a fit of rage Dean growled and yelled back at his agent for daring to insinuate Aidan was less important than anything else in his life.  Never mind that she had no idea what exactly was keeping him from returning, or that Aidan was even involved at all.

“Fuck my career!” Dean shouted, and before Holly had a chance to speak at him again Dean threw his phone heatedly off to the side.  It flew comically from his hand, soaring in an arc and landing in a tuft of grass atop the hill.  Dean immediately cursed and lost his balance, the chair toppling as he struggled to steady it, and then he inched down from his perch and walked towards his phone’s destination.  He picked it up carefully and brushed it off, taking note that the call had disconnected, but that everything still seemed in working order.  After a thorough check over Dean turned it off and tucked it away in a pocket.  There was no use calling Holly back to apologize, not until both of them had time to settle down a bit more.  The blond breathed in the crisp fresh air and closed his eyes, letting the cool sensation in his lungs calm him. When he began to walk towards the cabin, Dean startled as his eyes connected with a dark brown set staring right back at him.  Aidan was propped against the cottage wall, his arms wrapped tightly around his body as he stood on the deck.  He looked cold, and worn, and his gaze was filled with sadness as his eyes lingered on Dean’s form.   

“A-Aid, hey, didn’t know you were still up,” Dean stuttered, and he straightened his back and licked his lips embarrassedly.  Aidan’s eyes veered away and he managed to look impossibly small, as though he was drowning in the pale blue sweater draped over his shoulders. 

“I don’t want you to put your life on hold because of me,” Aidan spoke softly, and Dean gaped at him for a moment before shaking his head and approaching the rest of the way quickly.  The last thing he wanted was for his friend to feel somehow guilty for his choice to stay.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dean muttered, and he hopped up on the deck and reached out to grab hold of one of Aidan’s hands, taking care not to aggravate the still fresh wounds.  The brunet let his other arm fall to his side, and his brown eyes rose to meet Dean’s hesitantly. 

“I’m not putting my life on hold.  This is my life, you’re my life,” Dean insisted, without a single blink, and he gently brushed a few curly strands behind his friend’s ear.  Aidan’s face flushed attractively, and the blond smiled as he noticed the healthy colour filling the other man’s cheeks.  It was a refreshing sight, and a drastic change from the usual pale tone upon Aidan’s skin as of late.

“I’m staying, and there’s nothing you can do or say to convince me otherwise,” Dean swore, and he couldn’t resist pulling Aidan a little closer, so that all he had to do was lift the brunet’s chin to connect their lips. Their second kiss was tender, and just as sweet as the first.  Dean felt his heart rate increase as he deepened the contact, holding Aidan’s neck firmly beneath his hand.  The brunet’s breath was hot against his cold skin, and when he pulled away, the other man’s eyes remained closed, and his lips slightly parted.  Thankfully there were no tears threatening to fall.

“Is this okay?” Dean whispered, his moistened lips just barely brushing over Aidan’s.  There was a slight intake of air, and then the brunet’s eyes fluttered open.

“Y-yeah,” Aidan breathed, and Dean dove back in immediately, more forcefully than he meant to.  Aidan let out a surprised sound that morphed into a moan as the blond nibbled at his lower lip teasingly.  Mouths parted, and teeth clashed together, but neither man seemed intent to stop.  It was ungraceful, sloppy, and a little bit uncomfortable, but everything about it was still perfect.  Kissing Aidan felt so natural, like it was just another aspect of their friendship that had blossomed without either of them really thinking much about it at all.

Somehow Aidan ended up pressed firmly against the cabin’s exterior, as Dean explored his mouth.  If anyone had chosen that moment to walk down the path at the top of the hill, or go for a boat trip down the loch, their heated make out session would have been easily spotted.  But it was late, and few people rented the small cabins as the weather grew colder, so they had little reason to worry.  It felt like the entire world was theirs and theirs alone, that not a single soul existed for miles beyond the tiny piece of land.  The loch was calm and silent, the wind intermittent.  Every so often leaves rustled in the forestry around them, accompanying the sound of their lips smacking wetly and Aidan’s heated whimpers.  Dean let his hands wander up the other man’s back, bunching Aidan’s warm sweater in his grip, and the brunet groaned and arched into his form.  Dean pressed forwards wildly, and let his body graze against the brunet’s for a moment, but as he felt a jolt of heat spread through his veins and groin, he pushed away quickly, leaving Aidan breathless and panting against the wooden panels behind him. 

Dean ran a hand through his wavy hair as he caught his breath and tried to cool off a bit.  He was afraid to push their newfound relationship too far, and he needed to stop before things got out of hand.  He nearly pulled away completely but Aidan gripped his flannel shirt between thin fingers and tugged him close again.  The brunet stared at him from behind glazed eyes and let their brows fall forwards and connect.  The two men gazed at each other silently, overwhelmed by how intense everything felt.  Dean’s excitement still lingered, but when he leaned back in for another kiss it wasn’t rushed at all.  They shared several languid kisses, as the sky darkened and the air became increasingly cooler.  Eventually Dean pulled away from the other man’s lips, and trailed a few chaste caresses across his stubble, placing a single final kiss against Aidan’s cheekbone.  Dean rubbed some warmth into his friend’s arms and leaned back to eye him when the brunet cleared his throat.   

“Um…if you’re staying,” Aidan trailed off, his expression endearingly shy.

“I was thinking, we could move your stuff into my room?” he suggested, and Dean’s eyes widened and he pulled away even further to study the man before him. 

“It’s just…you know, I think you’ve spent enough time on the couch,” Aidan continued, clearly nervous under the obvious scrutiny, and a small grin started to form on the blond’s face, his dimples slowly taking shape at the edges of his mouth.

“I guess…what I’m really asking is….will you stay with me tonight?” Aidan questioned, and his eyebrows knitted together as he watched his friend’s expression intently.  Dean’s brow crinkled slightly as he tried to interpret exactly what the other man meant.  It was a loaded question, but truthfully it didn’t matter, his answer was the same either way.

“Of course I will,” Dean uttered lowly, and he grinned as his friend flashed familiar puppy eyes in his direction along with a happy smile. Dean chuckled and kissed the end of Aidan’s nose then ushered the brunet back inside to enjoy the cabin’s warmth.  It didn’t take long to relocate the pillows and blankets from the sofa, and soon enough the two were lying next to each other tucked beneath the cover of Aidan’s bedding.  Dean had already spent several nights at his friend’s bedside, but it was somehow different, knowing that he was there for another reason than usual, that he had been _invited_.  Dean wasn’t sure what to do, so he followed Aidan’s lead.  When the brunet inched closer, Dean did the same.  When Aidan reached a hand out to touch his chest, Dean wrapped an arm around the brunet’s waist in return. Their bodies aligned beneath the sheets, and Dean let his fingers trail beneath the other man’s shirt, exploring the skin of his lower back but not venturing any further.  In the end the two did little more than kiss a few more times, but Dean was beyond content.  He should have been stressed, about his life, about his career, about the impending result of Aidan’s illness, but none of that was on his mind.  The brunet’s head was nestled adorably between his shoulder and chest, and Dean’s mind was filled with unimaginable joy as they snuggled together atop the bed.  He latched on to the sudden surge of happiness, and intended to continue doing so for as long as he was able.

* * *

The two men spent each night in one another’s company, whether on the sofa or in Aidan’s bed.  They slept wherever Aidan happened to fall asleep, except for the one time he ended up hunched over the kitchen counter uncomfortably and Dean had carried him to bed instead.  The two spent the days lazing about together as well, napping frequently in the afternoons, and Dean found he quite enjoyed doing little more than staring at the ceiling as his hand idly trailed through the brunet’s curly locks.  He spent hours studying the strange patterns in the wood grain, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time, but somehow never feeling bored.  Dean was content to study his friend’s sleeping face, to lean close and listen to his steady breathing pattern and smell the familiar scent of ginger that lingered on Aidan’s clothes.  They hadn’t spoken of the brunet’s….condition, not once, and Dean was happy to keep the reality of that situation locked far away in the deepest, darkest corners of his thoughts.

He felt lethargic, and strangely disconnected from the world beyond the little piece of land they occupied.  Dean’s cell remained off, and if his agent tried to make contact, it went unnoticed.  He lived and breathed Aidan, and though the two rarely ventured beyond light kissing and snuggles on the couch, it was the most connected Dean had ever felt to another person in his life.  They never specifically put their relationship into words.  Were they boyfriends?  Lovers?  Friends with benefits?  He wasn’t sure, and Aidan never really confirmed anything, but Dean was okay with that.  He knew he cared deeply for the other man, and he would take whatever he was given.

On one evening, the two sat out to watch the sun set, cuddled together in one of the deck chairs.  It wasn’t meant for two people, let alone two grown men, but somehow they managed to fit beside each other on the wooden structure, along with several blankets to keep warm.  Sam likely would have joined them as well if there had been any room to spare, but instead the dog stayed close by, escaping back inside when the night-time air became too uncomfortable without any kind of cover.  Aidan had long since fallen asleep, and Dean was glad his friend seemed so at ease in his presence.  The other man looked almost ghostly beside him, and the pale colour of his skin contrasted vividly with Dean’s dark tan where their hands were joined together.  He looked so still, so at peace, almost…too much so.  Dean shifted in the chair and stared at him for a moment, his eyes narrowing when he didn’t see the other man’s chest moving at all.  The blond felt his heart skip and he nudged Aidan quickly and sat up in the chair, allowing the blankets to fall and pool at his waist.  The other man’s eyes remained closed, and there was no movement from him of any kind.  Dean felt his chest constricting painfully and he hovered over Aidan’s form, reaching out to shake his shoulders more frantically than he intended.

“Aid? We should probably head inside now,” Dean voiced, his voice cracking slightly as he looked down at his friend’s ashen face.  He waited for a few seconds and breathed in and out shakily as he studied the other man’s static face.

“Aidan, Aidan wake up,” Dean pleaded quietly, and he touched Aidan’s face and gasped as his head lolled to the side.  The blond was far too distraught to do anything other than stare down at his friend in anguish and he sat frozen as his hand lingered beside his Aidan’s ear.  Dean’s worst nightmare was coming to light, and he reacted abruptly, throwing the blankets entirely from his body and straddling the other man on the wooden chair.  He stared down at Aidan intensely and shook his body several times, beginning to panic the longer he remained still and unresponsive.

“Aidan!” Dean shouted, shaking his friend’s shoulders aggressively, and his eyes burned as moisture clouded his vision.  The other man rocked limply in his grip for several moments, and Dean choked on a sob just as Aidan’s lips parted and the brunet groaned uncomfortably.  Aidan opened his eyes groggily, and blinked up at the man above him as his vision remained blurry and his mind disoriented.  The blond slumped against him in relief.  Tears filled Dean’s eyes, and they dripped down onto the brunet’s face as he trembled in relief.

“Wha-?” Aidan mumbled, still struggling to recognize his surroundings, and his arms fidgeted as he stretched out the muscles and lifted a hand to wipe the moisture from his skin.

“Dean?” Aidan whispered, as he took in the other man in the midst of a breakdown.  Dean didn’t respond other than to clench his hands even tighter in the other man’s shirt.  Aidan’s actions were still sluggish, and he grunted wearily as his head turned to the side to give him a better view of the other man’s face.

“You’re crying,” Aidan observed, his brow crinkling in confusion, and he struggled to raise his other arm and touch one of his friend’s quaking shoulders.  Dean let out a strangled whine and shook his head as he tried to calm down.  He wrapped his arms tightly around Aidan’s body, confining him against the chair, and aligning their chests together.

“I love you,” Dean’s voice was little more than a tiny brush of air against the other man’s neck, but the words were still distinctive and Aidan heard them loud and clear.  It was not the way Dean had imagined confessing his feelings.  He’d entertained the idea of a romantic candle lit dinner, or perhaps a picnic on the beach; certainly not sobbing his heart out as the words slipped carelessly from his lips.  The brunet lay frozen, unable to move much at all as he watched the other man with slightly more awareness.  His face was showered in kisses, tiny little delicate touches that made his skin tingle and sent shivers running down his spine.  Aidan inhaled in surprise as Dean’s head fell to rest just over his heart, listening to the steady rhythm beneath his ear.  The blond’s fingers gripped into Aidan’s sides fiercely, and he seemed so desperate to keep as little space between them as possible.

“…D-Dean,” Aidan stuttered as his shirt became wet with tears, and he was left staring up at the pitch black sky in bewilderment. 

“You wouldn’t wake up,” Dean murmured against the brunet’s chest, and Aidan’s face became slacken as he finally realized what was going on.  He felt guilty for dragging his friend into such emotional turmoil, and knew there was little he could do to remedy anything.    

“I’m sorry,” Aidan spoke softly, and Dean jolted atop him, pulling away to look into dark, desolate eyes.  Dean frowned at him and ran his fingers through the strands of hair next to the other man’s temples.  It wasn’t Aidan’s fault, but Dean was not able to explain that, his voice stuck somewhere in his throat.  Instead he placed his fingers over the brunet’s lips to stop him from speaking further, and Aidan seemed to understand.  The reality that Dean was trying so hard to ignore was staring him down, taunting him, and beating him into submission incessantly.

Aidan was going to die. 

It may not have been on that specific day, but one day the brunet wouldn’t wake up, no matter how hard Dean shook his body, and no matter how hard he shouted the other man’s name.  It made Dean want to run and hide in some distant corner of the world, to try and imagine there was no such thing as cancer, and that his friend was perfectly healthy and happy in his little cabin in the Scottish Highlands.  But that meant leaving Aidan, and never seeing the brunet again, and that was certainly not on his agenda.  Never had he felt so much fear in his life, because no matter how much time Aidan had left, Dean would never be ready to say goodbye. 

* * *

Dean spent the next few days carefully watching his friend during his waking hours.  The lapses in Aidan’s attention were definitely increasing in length and frequency, and his hands shook near constantly.  Dean hadn’t noticed it quite so much before, because the other man often kept them clasped together, or tightly clenched in the fabric of his shirt, perhaps in an effort to hide it.  Now that Dean was paying attention he could properly see it, he could properly see everything.  Aidan was deteriorating, and faster than the blond cared to admit.  He hated feeling so useless.  He refused to sit by and watch as his friend faded from existence.  There had to be a way.  Something, anything.  Medicine was so advanced, surely it could be treated, fixed, or even…prolonged. 

Dean tapped his fingers anxiously against his knee as Aidan stared out of one of the windows facing the loch.  The brunet’s eyes were glazed over, and he was definitely in another place somewhere in his mind.  Dean was growing antsy just sitting and watching, and when he stood and opened the fridge to find it empty of anything remotely appetizing it gave him the excuse he needed to escape.    

“Hey, Aid, I’m gonna head up to town for a bit,” Dean spoke over his shoulder, but when he received no response the blond turned and clenched his fingers tightly into fists.  He swallowed and took a steadying breath, before approaching his friend and touching him lightly on the shoulder.  The brunet flinched and looked at him in surprise and Dean offered him the most controlled smile he could manage in return.

“Aid, I’m going into town. Have to grab a few things, did you need anything?” Dean asked, and the other man blinked at him as he took in the words.

“Oh, uh…no I’m okay, thanks,” Aidan replied, and before Dean even had time to leave the brunet was back to looking outside, though this time he was nervously picking at his nails.  The blond threw a jacket over his shoulders, watching his friend worriedly right up until the moment he set foot outside, and then he hopped in the car and made his way through the winding roads towards town. 

Dalmally was the same as always, though even less busy than usual.  Dean drove slowly through the streets, keeping an eye out for the little internet café he’d spotted on his first visit into town.  He pulled into a parking space quickly when he spotted it tucked between a traditional pub and a tartan shop.  Dean shoved his hands into his pockets as the bell above the door rang upon his entrance.  He nodded casually at the woman behind the desk and looked around the space searchingly.   There were just a handful of computers set on top of little round tables, with out of date mice attached to them, but it would work well enough. Dean picked one away from the windows in the farthest corner of the shop despite being the only person inside, and he set his jacket over the back of the chair before sitting down.

He made quick work of setting up his credit card information and then began browsing the internet as efficiently as possible.  He didn’t want to keep Aidan waiting too long, and truthfully they really did need some groceries if either of them planned on eating a decent meal anytime soon.  The radio played some catchy tune on the overhead speakers as he clicked through page after page of medical jargon.  Occasionally Dean sent some of it to the printer set up in the middle of the room, and after an hour or so he had read so much about different types of cancer procedures he thought his mind might explode.  The prognosis didn’t seem great, but there were a few options available to people like Aidan.  It made Dean feel just a little bit better to know he might not have to lose his friend as soon as he feared, and he gathered up the sheets describing the types of treatment he’d read about and hurried out of the café.      

Dean didn’t care if he was acting selfish or desperate.  He refused to give up hope.  Surely if he sat his friend down and took him through the information Aidan would understand he was wasting away his days.   After all, even if the best prognosis granted only a few more years with Aidan, Dean would gladly take it.  Any extra time he was given with the brunet would be a blessing, no matter how short.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah only 2 to 3 more chapters after this one.

Several days passed by before Dean was able to gather the courage to speak with Aidan.  He wanted the conditions to be perfect.  He wanted Aidan in a good mood, but not so happy that the conversation would put a damper on their day.  And he wanted the weather to be uplifting, because somehow everything felt easier when the sun shone through the tiny windows looking out over the loch.  Once everything seemed in order, and he could no longer deny that the setting was the best he was going to get, Dean gathered up the papers outlining the various procedures and approached the other man determinedly. 

Aidan was working on a puzzle, a ridiculous design featuring all sorts of strange characters frolicking on a beach.  It was yet another discovery from within the mysterious hall closet.  He was focused as he nibbled on the end of his thumb, trying to decipher the various patterns as he sorted the pieces by colour.  Dean sat across from him and waited until the other man took a break, sitting up in his chair and tossing the blond a smile.  It was a struggle to return it, but Dean managed, and he clenched his fingers in the stack of papers in an effort to keep them from fidgeting.

“Aidan, I need to talk to you for a bit,” Dean spoke, and almost immediately the grin slipped from his friend’s face.  Aidan seemed to sense something was off.  Perhaps it was the tone of Dean’s voice, or the stiffness of his posture.  Whatever it was certainly had the brunet on edge.  Aidan sat back in his chair and rubbed at one of his elbows as his gaze lowered towards the puzzle.

“O-okay, what’s up?” Aidan asked, and Dean wondered what he was so afraid of.  The reaction was almost enough to convince the blond to put the conversation off again, but he shook his head and steeled his nerves.  It was now or never.  Dean cleared his throat and glanced out the window before he placed the papers down on the table and spread them out atop the loose puzzle pieces.

“I did some research online the other day, and I really think you should look into some of these treatments,” Dean hurried, trying to get the words out as fast as possible.

“Even if all of the surgical procedures aren’t possible for you, there are some things you could do to delay the progression-,” he continued, but Aidan moved suddenly and a hand reached across the table, halting him as he organized the sheets.  Dean froze, his gaze connecting with the brunet’s and he narrowed his eyes at the resignation in his friend’s brown irises.  

“Dean,” Aidan whispered softly, and Dean was sure he could hear his heart beating loudly in the short silence that followed.

“Please Dean, just…let it go,” Aidan begged, and Dean pulled his hand out from under the other man’s fingers swiftly.

“How can you expect me to just…give up on you!?” He shouted in disbelief, his eyes wide as he gaped at his friend.  Aidan slumped in his chair and looked away, out towards the alarmingly calm water. He lifted a hand to his face, holding his knuckles just beneath his nose as his eyelashes wavered rapidly. 

“It’s not giving up,” Aidan muttered, his voice slightly muffled behind his hand, and the blond shook his head angrily.  Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  He knew Aidan was stubborn, one of the most stubborn people he’d ever met, but honestly, he never imagined that the other man would simply throw his life away.  Dean felt panic creeping up on him, and his chest tightened as he struggled to find a way to convince the brunet.   

“A-Aid, there has to be a way…,” Dean hissed, and he frantically shuffled through the papers, trying to point things out that he’d read.  The words jumbled together in front of him, and his eyes skipped over the lines, catching onto fragments that made little sense.  He felt the other man’s stare boring into him, felt the pity emanating from his dark eyes.   

“Dean, they told me four months, maximum,” Aidan voiced, and Dean halted again, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump forming in his throat.

“That was over two months ago,” Aidan added calmly.  Dean looked towards him, his eyes wide and glassy.  Aidan’s were much the same.  It was the first time such a thing had been mentioned, and it was almost as if Dean could see his time with Aidan disappearing before his eyes, almost as if he could hear the clock seconds ticking by. 

“It’s too late,” Aidan murmured, his brow scrunching slightly as the rims around his eyes reddened, and Dean frowned and nearly growled in response. 

“It’s never too late!” Dean shouted, and he stood suddenly, slamming his fists against the table and scattering several pieces of the puzzle.  The brunet jolted, but remained seated, staring at the table listlessly.

“I can’t stand the thought of watching you waste away in front of me!” Dean cried.  He was heaving, to the point where he felt out of breath.  Several seconds passed by and he could hear the waves lapping gently against the dock, could feel the light breeze as it blew in through the open window.  What almost always managed to calm him down, did little to settle his nerves for once, and his arms felt tense from flexing for so long.  Gentle fingers found their way about his wrists, rubbing softly at his skin as they slipped beneath the sleeves of his flannel shirt.  Aidan massaged his forearms carefully, running his hands up and down them until Dean’s fists slackened and his palms settled flat against the table top.

“Dean, I need you to calm down and listen to me,” Aidan uttered, and there was urgency audible in his voice that made Dean choke on his air and fall absolutely quiet.  He waited; taking deep breaths as he felt his shoulders slacken slightly, focusing on the gentle touches against his skin.

“I already know, about all of the procedures,” Aidan began, and Dean looked towards him, studying the tiny movements in his brow.

“I know the risks, the chance of survival, the options,” Aidan continued, and then his eyes connected with Dean’s and the blond faltered under his gaze.

“What do you think I did that first week when I found out?” Aidan asked, a sad smile forming on his face.  He nibbled at his lower lip in an attempt to stop it from trembling, and then shook his head slightly, clearly struggling to keep a hold on his emotions.

“I spent every moment researching; trying to find a way, but…it’s not the path I chose,” Aidan admitted, and then he pulled away from the blond, crossing his arms over his chest so he could rub at his shoulders.

“I…I don’t want to waste what time I have, worrying, wondering, because there’s a two percent chance or something stupid that I might be able to live a few years longer,” he voiced timidly, and Dean inhaled quickly and let his head lower as he felt tears welling up in his eyes.

“I know you’re…upset.  I know this is…unfair and hard on you.  I’m sorry, but I need you here, I need…your acceptance, your s-support,” Aidan stuttered, his voice catching as he sniffled, and Dean was suddenly caught off guard.  Why was Aidan the one apologizing?  It wasn’t his fault, Dean was the one making things difficult, the one pressuring him.  He felt awful.

“I just want to…not think about it all the time, I want to be happy,” Aidan murmured, and the blond squeezed his eyes shut at the fragile sound of his voice.

“I know I…I’m messed up. I can’t remember things…I-I shake, all the time. I thought I could do this but, please Dean, please,” he begged, and Dean looked up in a hurry, his vision slightly blurred.

“I need you,” Aidan gasped, his chest heaving suddenly as he raised a hand and wiped at his eyes.  Dean hurried to his side, kneeling next to the chair as he pulled the other man into an embrace.  Aidan collapsed against him, his hands clenching in the fabric of Dean’s shirt as he slid from the chair towards the floor.

“Okay, okay,” Dean soothed, and he pressed his nose against Aidan’s temple and whispered into his ear.

“I’m here, you have me, you have me,” Dean promised as he blinked the tears away. He chastised himself for criticizing his friend and for assuming he hadn’t scoured for a solution in just the same way.  Of course he had!  Aidan would never give up on life.  Never.  Any time left, no matter how short, was valuable.  Any time spent together was valuable.  The important thing was to enjoy his last days, to the best of his ability, and Dean would make sure he did.

“I’m…I’m the one being selfish. I’m sorry,” Dean spoke against his friend’s hair, and he pulled away slightly to look at Aidan’s blotchy face.  They sat there, huddled on the ground and tucked into the legs of the table, doing little more than staring at one another while Dean pushed the curly locks of hair off his friend’s brow.  Dean wondered what might have happened had he never shown up at the tiny cottage at all.  What if he hadn’t taken a trip at random, what if he’d gone home like he was meant to?  Aidan would have been left by himself with no one to spend his final days with. 

“You weren’t going to tell anyone,” Dean uttered in realization.  His eyes narrowed when the other man winced and shrugged and the blond’s fingers came to rest just over his ears.

“You were going to do this alone,” he said, and Aidan looked away guiltily.

“I…I had Sam,” Aidan whispered, his fingers twisting nervously in the folds of Dean’s shirt.  The blond snorted lightly and kissed Aidan’s nose.

“You idiot,” Dean muttered, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he looked over his friend’s face.  Aidan’s mouth twitched slightly and he looked up, pausing for a moment before leaning closer to share a kiss.  Dean breathed in through his nose as their lips mingled and he groaned when the other man pushed forwards to deepen it.  The brunet always participated willingly, but Aidan didn’t often initiate their kisses, and it was a bit of a surprise for the blond when he found himself pressed forcefully against the table.  Dean wanted to see where he might take things, so he just let the other man lead, his lips moving only slightly beneath the pressure against them. Their hands roamed a bit, but it was difficult in their cramped position on the floor to do much of anything, and when one of Aidan’s hands slipped beneath the waistline of the blond’s jeans, Dean cursed as his head knocked against the table with a crack.   Aidan pulled away, his eyes wide and apologetic, but Dean just laughed it off and grinned at him widely.  He hadn’t been expecting that.

The brunet’s features turned serious, and he took a deep breath before standing, reaching out to help the other man up.  He grasped onto Dean’s hand tightly and turned, leading him towards the bedroom at a leisurely pace.  The blond followed eagerly, squeezing his friend’s hand periodically as he watched the collar of Aidan’s shirt graze against his neck.  He figured their emotional conversation had taken its toll on the brunet, and that he needed some time to rest and recover, perhaps another one of those relaxing afternoon naps.

As they entered the bedroom Dean turned to close the door, but when he faced his friend his breath caught in his throat. Aidan was unbuttoning his shirt with shaky hands, and he stared at Dean raptly as it fell away from his shoulders.  There was something new and exciting about the way Aidan looked at him, like he was putting on a show, and Dean was the sole member of the audience.  The blond felt his palms begin to sweat as Aidan reached to unbutton his pants, and Dean summoned every last bit of will he possessed before reaching out and touching Aidan’s arm gently to stop him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Dean voiced, looking into the other man’s eyes sincerely.  The last thing he wanted was to pressure Aidan into something he wasn’t ready for.

“I want to,” Aidan claimed, his fingers toying with the button at the top of his fly and Dean followed the motion with his eyes.

“D-do _you_ …want me to?” Aidan asked timidly, his shoulders hunching forwards as Dean stared, his mouth slightly agape.  The blond’s heart was racing, and his head a jumbled mess, but the answer was clear in his mind.

“Yes,” he rasped and his arm fell away as Aidan slid his pants and boxers to the ground before stepping out of them.  Dean ogled him shamelessly.  He’d seen parts of Aidan nude before, while filming, and out of the corner of his eyes, but never had it been meant for him in such an intimate way.  He was all long legs, and had a slim frame decorated with dark tantalizing hairs in places Dean never realized he wanted to explore so badly.  He couldn’t resist touching him, and his hands found their way to Aidan’s waist, just grazing the skin over his hip bones.  Dean’s thumbs inched over towards the brunet’s navel, and he frowned slightly when he noticed a rash spreading across the other man’s middle. 

“I...it’s from the meds,” Aidan whispered, and Dean nodded and let his eyes roam the rest of his body, taking in absolutely every detail.  He didn’t care about a rash, or the discolouration noticeable on some areas of his skin.  He didn’t care that Aidan was slightly thinner than ideal, or that his features looked worn and fatigued.  He was mesmerized by him; he wanted to kiss every inch of him.   

“You’re gorgeous Aid,” Dean smiled even as the other man snorted and flushed slightly at the compliment, and then he gently nudged Aidan backwards until his legs collided with the bed.  The two fell atop the mattress, and Dean wasted little time, kissing the brunet for all he was worth.  He left a wet trail, sucking tiny marks into the other man’s skin, working his way down his neck and chest.  And then Aidan’s hands were grasping at him, tugging his collar open as he pushed the flannel shirt away hurriedly.  A few buttons popped in the process, but it mattered little, because they were finally touching skin on skin, grinding into each other fiercely.  Dean groaned as fingers found their way into his hair, and he worked his way back up Aidan’s long form, lining their bodies up as he devoured the brunet’s mouth.  Aidan moaned loudly, arching up into him, and Dean swore and pulled away, looking down into dark eyes intently.  Their faces were flushed, their breathing laboured, and the two of them flashed excited smiles at one another.  Never had Dean felt so overwhelmed by another person.  Never had he wanted to be physically a part of another so desperately, fused together like they were just one instead of two. 

Aidan’s gaze flittered away for a moment as he let his hands run down Dean’s back, settling at the edge of his pants, and then Dean shimmied out of them, closing his eyes as their bare skin made contact in yet another place.  Aidan was watching him through half lidded eyes, and Dean pushed down against him, clenching his fingers in the other man’s dark curls as pleasure shot through his form.

“Do you have…?” Dean trailed off, one hand running along the inside of Aidan’s thigh.  The brunet nodded towards his bedside table, and Dean raised an eyebrow before fiddling around in the single drawer. 

“You’ve been planning this,” he commented, staring at the brunet in awe.  Aidan smiled impishly and shrugged his shoulders while the blond reconnected their forms.  It comforted the blond, knowing that it wasn’t a rushed decision, but something Aidan had likely thought about for a long while. They kissed again, and Dean found it hard to pull away.  In the end he didn’t, nipping lightly at Aidan’s lips as he slid his hand between their bodies blindly.  When they made love, it was nothing like Dean ever envisioned sex with Aidan might be like.  It wasn’t rushed or heavy, quick or rough.  Instead, it was unbelievably slow, gentle. His eyes remained on Aidan’s the entire time, and Aidan’s stayed locked onto his in return, their lips just barely touching between kisses.  They rocked together endlessly, no destination in mind, just enjoying the feeling of being joined. 

It was late afternoon by the time they were both lazing beneath the blankets, feeling sated and more in tune with one another than ever.  Dean held the brunet close, running his fingers idly through curly locks as he kissed Aidan’s temple intermittently.

“You know I love you too right?” Aidan whispered, his eyelids heavy as he relaxed atop the rise and fall of Dean’s chest.

“Yeah,” Dean slurred, gazing happily at the ceiling.  He was half awake, nearly on the verge of falling into a dreamlike state.  Aidan rolled over, settling on top of him as he looked into hazy blue eyes.

“No you don’t get it,” Aidan said, and Dean frowned at him as he shifted beneath the other man’s weight and blinked the fog from his eyes.

“I…really, really love you,” Aidan confessed.  The blond gaped at him, and reached out to touch his cheek bone, his vision suddenly clear. 

“I don’t deserve you.”  Dean’s eyes widened at the comment and he sat up, pushing Aidan back until the other man crossed his legs on the bed in front of him.

“Aid, you deserve the world,” Dean insisted, and he tugged the blankets tightly around Aidan’s shoulders.  The brunet hesitated and blinked rapidly, and Dean knew he was on the verge of another breakdown. 

“I thought…I thought you were going to tell me you were leaving, that you’d changed your mind. Earlier,” Aidan mentioned, his hands twisting in his lap.  Dean grasped one of them in his own and lifted it to his lips, his eyes meeting brown irises as he kissed bony knuckles.

“Never,” Dean said with a slight shake of his head.

“Truthfully…,” Aidan trailed off and he stared at their joined hands with watery eyes.

“If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I might have just walked into the loch one day and not come back out.”  Aidan’s voice hitched and Dean tightened his grasp on the slim fingers within his as he inhaled quickly.  He leaned forwards, his brow bumping against the other man’s.  Dean couldn’t imagine losing the brunet in such a way, without even having the chance to say goodbye.  Never knowing if it was an accident or…suicide. He couldn’t imagine not having the memories they’d made together on the loch, or discovering the love they held for one another.  Even the seemingly boring days spent doing little more than lounging on the sofa were treasured moments in his heart.

“Don’t you dare,” Dean hissed. 

“Not without me at your side, don’t you dare.”  Dean’s heart ached as Aidan fell against him, his shoulders shaking frantically.  There was nothing to absorb the stray tears, and instead they clung to Dean’s skin as the brunet pushed a wet nose into his collar bone.  It was a wonder that Aidan still had tears to give, it was a wonder either of them did.  It felt as though he’d spent the better part of the day crying against Dean’s shoulder, the better part of the past several days in fact.   Dean sighed, wishing he could do more to soothe his friend’s pain.  He may not have been able to stop the tears, but at least that shoulder would be there for Aidan as long as he needed it, along with his heart.

* * *

“Dean…can I ask a favour?” Aidan inquired one morning, before the sun even rose fully in the sky.  Dean shifted in his chair, turning towards the other man in surprise.  It was a rarity to see him up so early, especially lately, when his time spent sleeping far surpassed his time spent awake.

“Anything you want, Aid,” he answered quickly, and he pushed aside the newspaper he was reading to offer the brunet his full attention.

“I’ve written some letters, for when…you know,” Aidan muttered, and Dean finally took in the stack of envelopes clasped between the other man’s hands.  He kept his face impassive, but inside his heart sank a little at the sight of them, understanding what they were for.

“Would you make sure everyone gets them?” Aidan asked softly.  Dean held out a hand and took the offered pile, not quite sure how to feel about it.  He was holding the last words his friend meant to send to all his loved ones, words from his soul, precious words. 

“Sure, of course,” Dean uttered, and he couldn’t help but catch sight of the names scribbled on the front of the letters.  He flipped through them slowly, not recognizing a few of them and then smirking when he saw each of the other cast members from The Hobbit.  It seemed fitting that they would all get a letter, but then Dean faltered as his eyes came to rest on his own name, centred on the envelope at the very back of the stack.  It was the only letter without an address, the only one without a last name.  It looked as though hours had been put into just simply writing out those four simple characters.

Just… _Dean_. 

His fingers hovered over it, and he nearly pulled it from the pile, but Aidan reached out and grabbed his hand before he was able.

“Don’t open it, not yet, not ‘til it’s time,” the brunet requested anxiously, and Dean nodded before tapping the pile against the surface of the table and setting them all down atop it. 

Dean let out the breath he was holding in and placed his hands on the other man’s waist, tugging him over to stand between his legs.  His fingers slid beneath Aidan’s sweater, lifting it slightly so that a tiny sliver of skin showed, and he bent to kiss the other man’s belly before pulling the brunet to straddle his lap.  Aidan chuckled and sprawled over him inelegantly, his arms hanging off the back of the chair.  When Dean kissed him it was wholeheartedly as he tried to let his mind drift away from the letters.  They remained on the desk, just out of his line of sight, but still he couldn’t stop thinking about his name scrawled over the envelope on the bottom of the pile.  A part of him desperately wanted to tear into it right then and there, to read the words Aidan felt the need to leave him with at the end.  But mostly, he just wanted to throw it away in the loch, watch it sink beneath the water, if only it meant the time for him to open it might never come.

* * *

There were good days, and bad days, and it was often pretty evident which one it might be the moment Aidan woke up.  The brunet walked out well into the afternoon on one particular day, and Dean watched as he stumbled over towards the sofa, crawling atop it and tucking his feet under his body.  Aidan sat there, staring at the blank television screen, his brow furrowed in anguish.  He didn’t look like he wanted to be up, he looked more like he wanted to laze beneath the warm blankets atop his bed for eternity.  He didn’t say a word, ignoring Dean’s presence completely, and the blond eyed him worriedly. 

It was panning out to be a very bad day. 

Aidan could go for hours like that, forgetting to eat or take his medication.  And without his medication, the pain from his headaches only grew worse, and in turn his mood worsened as well.  Dean went to work in the tiny kitchenette immediately, heating a soothing chicken noodle soup over one of the burners.  It was likely Aidan felt nauseous, and there was probably little he’d be able to stomach, but chicken noodle soup always seemed to be a little bit easier for him to keep down.

Dean approached, setting up a tray table before placing a bowl full of the broth on top of it.  He put it directly in front of the other man, but Aidan’s eyes remained focused elsewhere, and he made no sign of moving.

“Aid, I made some soup,” Dean mentioned, ducking slightly so he could peer into his friend’s eyes.  They were icy and bloodshot, and his skin was a shade whiter than usual, highlighting the dark circles beneath his eyes.

“I don’t want it,” Aidan drawled, his eyes shifting slightly as he frowned at the sight of the bowl before him.

“Come on, you haven’t eaten all day,” Dean urged, and he tried to offer the other man a light-hearted smile, but there was no reaction.  The blond stepped closer, uncapping a few pill bottles and placing them in front of the brunet, just next to the soup. 

“You need to take your medication, and you need to eat something, I can hear your stomach growling,” Dean insisted, his voice steady and calm.  Aidan tensed, his nostrils flaring as he glared straight ahead.

“I’m not hungry,” he was bristling, and Dean forced himself to stand his ground despite the outburst he knew was on its way.

“Aidan, please. You need to take care of yourself,” Dean insisted, and as he nudged one of the bottles closer on the table Aidan lashed out, shoving it away from him.  Soup splattered over the floor as the bowl clattered nearby, and the pills scattered throughout the living area, rolling over the wooden floorboards to each corner of the room.  Dean flinched, barely managing to avoid getting soaked by hot soup, but he remained calm, even as Aidan stood panting in front of him.

“Why?!” the brunet shouted, his eyes wide as he stared the other man down.

“Why’s it even matter!? I could just fucking die today anyway!” he cried.  Dean’s mouth fell open and he watched as Aidan’s face morphed from furious to fearful in a heartbeat.  The brunet’s breathing was laboured as he studied the floor intently, taking in the various chunks of vegetables and noodles strewn about below.

“I’m just…I’m just gonna die.”

The words lingered between them as Aidan’s chest contracted several times.  He was crying again, his teeth gritted together as he fought against his tears desperately. It was too painful, watching him suffer so and when he looked at Dean, he burst into sobs.  His hands started to shake and he backed away in fright as he realized what a mess he’d made of the floor.  His legs caught against the edge of the sofa, and he tripped over it, landing atop the armrest heavily.

“I…I’m s-sorry,” Aidan stuttered, and Dean approached him carefully.  He ignored the mess, though grimaced slightly as his toes squished atop a stray noodle, before pulling Aidan’s face into his hands.  The blond held onto him firmly, looking into the other man’s emotive irises sincerely. 

“Aidan, it’s okay,” Dean spoke, inspecting the many droplets that clung between his friend’s eyelashes.

“I know you didn’t mean to get upset.  Just breathe with me for a little bit,” Dean said, his thumbs resting just at the edge of Aidan’s hairline.  The brunet nodded mechanically, taking in several long, deep breaths until it became second nature again.  Aidan flushed in embarrassment, clearly feeling confused and frustrated.  He’d spoken about his outbursts once before, and Dean knew he couldn’t always control them. The gentle rubbing over the brunet’s temples slowly encouraged him to relax, and eventually the frown fell from his face as he slumped forwards slightly.  Aidan stared into his friend’s blue eyes, his gaze conveying silently just how grateful he was for the other man’s support and Dean returned the look with a gentle smile that spoke volumes. 

“There’s still some soup on the stove, will you eat a little, for me?” Dean asked, his brow crinkling just a bit as he implored the other man to say yes. 

“I need to clean up…,” Aidan slurred, his gaze drifting to the messy floorboards, and he winced when he noticed the capsules beginning to dissolve, leaving strangely coloured stains on the wood grain. 

“Don’t worry about it.  I’ll get it, okay?” Dean voiced, and Aidan let his body slide sideways onto the cushions as the blond went about tidying the small space.  He looked like a guilt-ridden puppy, lying there miserably as Dean mopped up the mess on the floor, but he sat up slowly when the other man set him up with another bowl of soup.  Aidan sipped at the broth, his spoon clattering against the side of the dish along with the tremors in his hand.  Dean watched him carefully, making sure he finished and took his pills, and then let their fingers entwine as they sat back to watch a movie, Sam curled up atop Aidan’s feet.  Neither of them really saw the scenes, more preoccupied with their joined hands.

“I’m scared, Dean,” Aidan whispered over the sound of the film.  Dean turned his head slightly, taking in his friend’s frightful expression as he squeezed the other man’s hand to show he was listening.

“Any day, who knows when, I might just…not wake up, and I won’t even know it. It could be today, it could be tomorrow, or the day after.”  He was trembling, and Dean tugged him closer into his side.

“You’re right, it could be any day.  But until that day comes, I’ll consider it far, far away,” Dean spoke, and he grasped the other man’s chin and looked directly into his eyes.

“I’ll be here with you for every moment.  Even after I’ll find my way to you somehow, and I know you’ll find a way to me,” he insisted, and Aidan nodded in agreement. 

“Now, what are we going to do tomorrow?” Dean asked, drawing their thoughts towards more pleasant things.  With any luck, the following day would be a good one instead.

* * *

Neither of them had fully explored the lesser used paths of Inverliever Forest, and it seemed wrong to let so much of the area surrounding Loch Awe go undiscovered.  So Dean and Aidan bundled up tight, packing their bags for a day of hiking, and they set out on foot between the trees.  Sam followed them, occasionally disappearing up the pathway ahead, but always finding his way back. 

It was an incredible forest, and Dean snapped pictures constantly of the surrounding natural beauty.  If Aidan happened to make his way into the majority of them it was by complete accident, or so Dean said.  Everything was so mystical about their surroundings.  The way the trees towered above them, the strange fog that hung low above the ground, the soft sounds the wind made as it rustled the drying leaves.  Aidan was sometimes lost in his mind, walking reflexively at the blond’s side, but he seemed happy and at peace.  His smiles were true, and whenever he met the other man’s eyes he nearly glowed.  Dean wondered if there was such a thing as an aura, and figured Aidan’s must have been pure white, so radiant it was blinding.  He looked like he belonged there, standing beneath the enchanting trees.

The two of them strayed from the path, following Sam through the winding foliage as he sniffed the ground and trotted along happily.  Running water sounded not too far away, and Aidan stopped suddenly as he spotted the clearing ahead, Dean nearly colliding with his body.  A stream twisted throughout the trees, and Dean’s eyes widened as he took in the scattered falls at the head.  Water cascaded gently over different rock formations, and a faint mist rose from the rapids at the bottom, mingling with the foggy surroundings.  He framed a few shots, taken aback by the incredible sight, and then he walked towards Aidan and grasped his hand.  The brunet smiled, leaning in for a kiss and Dean let his camera fall back into place around his neck so he could wrap his hands around the other man’s waist.

If it had been warmer, he would have been tempted to pull the other man into the clear water, and perhaps even fool around a bit against the rocks.  But it was far too cold for such a thing, so he settled for rocking their bodies back and forth to the sound of falling water.  Dean felt a sudden urge to explore further, so he tugged the other man along after him as they walked over stray rocks, taking care not to slip, while Sam lapped at the water and jumped over the river bed beside them. They clearly weren’t the first to wander into the area, as several primitive drawings were etched into the rocks around them.  Dean studied the strange circular patterns engraved in the formations with a keen eye, bending to run his fingers over the texture.  If there was a single magical place on the planet, this was definitely it.

The two of them settled on a fallen log, their shoulders nudging against each other as they watched Sam chase squirrels and play in the open area around them.

“You never mentioned how you found this big guy,” Dean said, adjusting the settings on his camera so he could snap a shot of the dog.

“Sam?  Actually, he found me,” Aidan admitted, and Dean raised an eyebrow as he gave his friend a curious look.

“I’d only been here a couple days, and he showed up out of the blue.  Nearly gave me a heart attack when I turned around and this giant dog was just standing there, staring me down.  Thought I was about to get eaten by some terrifying loch monster,” Aidan laughed, his entire face lighting up as he recalled the scene.

“He didn’t have a collar, and he seemed really insistent on staying, even pushed his way inside when I opened the door, and really, how are you supposed to fight with that?” he said, gesturing towards the dog as it stretched across a pile of leaves.  Dean snorted, and he picked up a stray stick and started drawing little patterns in the dirt at his feet.  He loved listening to Aidan talk, listening to the highs and lows in his voice, the excited way he relived a tale as he told it.

“So I got him some food in town, and a few days later I had named him Sam,” Aidan mentioned, sitting back on the log, his hands sliding over the rough bark.

“He responds well enough to it, you even bought him a dog tag,” Dean commented.  He noticed the small flinch at his side and turned to look at the brunet worriedly.  Aidan was looking away, his tongue running across his upper lip as he furrowed his brow.

“I…didn’t want to forget,” he muttered.  Dean sat up, letting the stick fall from his fingers as he tucked a lock of hair behind the other man’s ear.  He wondered if Sam had known that Aidan needed someone there for him, perhaps the dog had sensed that something was off when they first met.

“How are you feeling, still okay?” Dean asked, letting his hand settle at the base of the brunet’s neck.

“You don’t have to worry so much.  I’m…fine right now,” Aidan said, his eyes closing for just a moment before he turned to face Dean with a smile.

“I feel…good today,” he uttered, and Dean had to admit that his eyes looked clearer than they had in a while.  The blond tightened his grip and pulled Aidan’s head towards him gently, pressing a kiss to the end of his nose before joining their lips.  The brunet’s breath was warm against his skin, and he revelled in the feeling it sent running through his body.  Dean smirked against the other man’s lips as an idea formed in his mind, and a moment later a bright flash went off.  Aidan pulled away with a gasp, eyeing the camera lens pointed at them with judgemental eyes.

“Dean, honestly, you and that camera,” Aidan breathed, but he wasn’t angry.  Aidan’s eyes ran across Dean’s playful expression, and he shook his head slightly and rolled his eyes.

“I’m surprised you don’t bring it to bed with you,” he commented wryly.  

“I could, if you want,” Dean uttered, glancing at Aidan suggestively.  The look brought a flush to Aidan’s neck and the brunet shivered slightly at the prospect, failing to deny his interest in the idea.  Dean grinned, grabbing Aidan’s hand and standing.  He led them around the tiny waterfall, moving to walk into the thick forestry at its edge.  His feet stepped over fallen logs and low hanging branches, and Aidan’s feet crunched atop the ground just behind him.  There were strange little manmade sculptures settled between the trees that Dean found fascinating, and he paused before what looked like a decorated door low to the ground, bending down to run his hand over the engraved wood.

“What’s this?” Dean asked, looking through his lens and snapping a photo of the details up close.

“A fairy door!” Aidan said excitedly, and he looked over Dean’s shoulder at the tiny thing.  It could have been a Hobbit door, round and framed with ornate stone.  There was a tiny handle just beckoning someone to try and open it.

“They don’t actually open, only fairies can open them,” Aidan mentioned, even as Dean reached out towards the handle.  He tugged on it, expecting the door to stay closed, but it opened easily in his hand, and he was left staring down at the dirt and rocks on the other side of it.  Aidan burst out laughing, hunching over to place his hands on his thighs.

“Pffft!  You’re a fairy Dean!” he teased, his eyes crinkling shut as he grinned broadly.

“I always knew there was a reason you were so short!” Aidan howled, and Dean pouted as he snapped the door shut again.

“Oi, shut it!” Dean spoke with a fake frown, but Aidan just kept laughing, to the point where he had to bite down on the back of his hand to even be able to breathe.  Dean stood up, wiping the leaves from his knees before he tousled the other man’s hair.  The sound of Aidan’s laughter echoed around them and soon Dean was chuckling along with him, caught up by the contagious nature of his friend’s happiness.  They leaned against one another for support, until Aidan let out a long drawn out yawn and nuzzled his face into the other man’s neck.

“Wish I could stay here with you forever,” Aidan whispered, a residual smile still visible on his face, and Dean swayed back and forth as he rubbed his hands up and down the brunet’s back.

“Maybe you will.  Stranger things have happened in Scotland,” Dean said, looking up at the tall trees hovering overhead.  He could barely see the sky through the mingling branches, and his eyes closed as a soft breeze brushed against his face.

“Well you are a fairy after all,” Aidan muttered, pressing a kiss to the skin just above Dean’s collar.  The blond snorted and wrapped his arms around Aidan’s hunched over form, taking on the brunt of his weight. 

“You’re such an idiot,” Dean spoke fondly, and he was content to stand there with Aidan, not quite willing to start the long trek back to the cabin.   

“You love this idiot,” Aidan drawled, and his eyes fell shut as well as he relaxed against Dean’s solid form. 

“With all my heart,” Dean whispered, and the two were left standing in a trance, lulled by the gentle sounds of the falls in the distance, the eerie embrace of the wind floating through their hair.


End file.
